


The Lullaby Singer

by TheOtherOdinson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Family Drama, Gen, Loki Has Issues, Odin tries, Odin's Parenting, Unreliable narrators abound, and so much anger, everybody has angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 78,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherOdinson/pseuds/TheOtherOdinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.</p><p>Or Odin could go himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Asgard I

**Part 1- Asgard**

  


"I said, 'repeat yourself', Gatekeeper."

"Odin," Frigga clutched at his arm. He covered her hands with his free one while keeping his eye fixed on Heimdall. Odin had given an order. He would be obeyed.

The day had started out quietly enough. Odin shared the morning meal with Frigga and Thor while they exchanged pleasantries and chatted about their plans for the day. Afterwards, Odin took a long walk about the palace and the grounds, stopping here and there to look out over Asgard before he was due to meet with his counsellors. His council offered little by the way of news these days since they'd been cut off from the realms. And since Thor spent his mornings meeting with each of them privately to see if any held news that might upset the king.

Thor thought Odin didn't know. He knew.

Odin had mixed feeling regarding Thor's efforts. On the one hand, he was proud of Thor for stepping up and taking his responsibilities as Crown Prince seriously. He was forging his own relationships with the council and working to head off problems before they became matters due the attention of the king. They were worthy efforts. Thor was finally growing into the man Odin had long hoped he would be.

On the other hand, Odin hated the thought of being glad-handled by his own son. The only thing that kept his temper in check over the matter was the knowledge Thor did it with the best of intentions. A son determined to lessen his father's burdens in the face of his struggles. And his grief.

His daily walk through his halls had followed more or less than the same route for centuries up until a year ago. It was then Odin chose a different route at the end, one that now led down the hall which contained the private rooms of his son, Loki.

Odin rarely had been inside the personal quarters of either of his sons. The family's private area of the palace was expansive. Each of them having halls that led to separate personal spaces branching away from the family's common rooms. It was in the common areas where they saw each most often. Thor and Loki, however, had always roamed freely in and out of each other's spaces, sometimes much to the other's dismay. The family saw each other most at meal times and sometimes in the evenings. Though seeing their sons in the evening had lessened over the years as the boys grew fonder of seeking company of their own choosing, rather than that of their parents. When Odin wanted to see one or both of his sons outside of the family times, he would send for them rather than seek them out.

Odin walked down Loki's hall, stopping when he reached the main door. He reached out and pressed his hand against the door. He didn't go in. He never did. Not since the day following Loki's death. Even then as he walked through his son's living space, looking at his things, his clothes, Odin felt like an intruder. He couldn't bear it. He'd left and had not been back, not even to help Frigga and Thor as they chose which of Loki's things would be burned in his funeral boat in lieu of his body.

He wondered if Frigga was already inside. If she was already seated in one of Loki's chairs, holding one of his remaining belongings and crying where no one would see her.

Frigga thought Odin didn't know. He knew.

He knew all too well the feeling of being adrift, of struggling with this strange feeling of being inadequate. A husband unable to comfort his wife. A king unable to manage his realm.

A father unable to find the words to save his son from falling.

_No, Loki._

Two words. Such simple words. Words he'd likely said a thousand times over Loki's lifetime.

"No, Loki, do not touch that, it's very sharp."

"No, Loki, you may not go to Alfheim for a year by yourself."

"No, Loki, I do not think keeping a bilgesnipe in the palace as a pet is a fine idea."

_No, Loki. Do not fall away somewhere I cannot catch you._

Two words. Two words he heard every night when he closed his eye to sleep. Two words he heard over and over in his dreams. Two words still ringing through his head each time he awoke with a gasp and the knowledge his son was dead.

And then Heimdall appeared with news.

It was late in the afternoon and Odin was in the King's Hall hearing petitions from the people when Heimdall suddenly appeared. That in itself was an oddity. Heimdall rarely attended the king except at Odin's request and Odin had not sent for him. More oddly was the sight of the king's watchman running through the hall towards the throne. The sight so unexpected and bizarre Odin's guards made moves to take up a protective stance around the king. Citizens and courtiers gasped and shouted as Heimdall dodged around them in his flight.

Odin stood. He waved his guards to their normal posts and calmly awaited Heimdall's approach.

Upon reaching the king Heimdall went down on one knee, clenching his fist to his heart. He bowed his head. "My liege, I bring you news of a most urgent matter. I beg a private audience with you at once."

Odin blinked and stared at his watchman's bowed head for a moment. He tried to remember a time when Heimdall ever personally interrupted court proceedings. Or anything at all, for that matter. He couldn't think of one.

"Petitions are adjourned for the day," he said to assembled crowd. He descended the steps away the throne and headed for the exit nearest his study. Two of his counsellors scrambled to follow him. He waved them away.

"I will hear Heimdall's news. I will call the council if I feel it necessary."

"My liege, if I may, I think the queen should be called."

Odin stopped and turned to stare hard at Heimdall. He sought to read his thoughts and reveal what news he held that was urgent and private, yet should be shared with Frigga. Heimdall met his gaze unflinching.

He nodded at the nearest guard. "Send for the queen. Tell her to come to my study at once."

Now here they were. Odin was torn between grabbing Heimdall in a fierce hug and choking the life out of him for the words he spoke.

"Prince Loki is alive. There is a force amassing of beings called the Chitauri. Loki will lead this force. They will invade Midgard."

Frigga made a noise beside him. Odin squeezed her hands tighter.

"What. What? WHAT?!" Odin roared. "What do you mean Loki is invading Midgard? How... I... He's alive? My son is alive?"

"Yes. Loki lives."

"And he intends to invade Midgard?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Odin had to sit down, pulling Frigga down with him, part way through Heimdall's explanation. It was too much to take in. The Tesseract in the hands of the mortals. Their simple minded understanding of the nature of the Infinity Stone creating ideal conditions for anyone with the knowledge -- Loki! -- to open up a doorway to pass into their world. Once he had the Tesseract, it would be child's play to open another portal large enough to allow an invading force to enter Midgard's atmosphere and overrun the mortals' meagre defences.

Loki was alive. Odin's son was alive. He was going to slaughter the mortals like sheep just like...

_No!_

It was not going to happen. Odin would not allow it.

"Heimdall."

"My queen."

"Loki," her voice broke on his name, before she gathered herself and continued. "Did you see, can you tell me how does he look? Is he well?"

Heimdall hesitated. "It's difficult to say with certainty. I saw him for only a brief moment illuminated in the light cast by the Tesseract's portal before he entered it. I watched to gather the plans of the Chitauri to bring to the king. I waited only until I saw Loki arrive safely on Midgard before leaving my post."

Frigga's smile was wavering, her eyes filled with tears. "But he looked well? He was not hurt?"

"He did not appear physically hurt when I saw him."

"Did he..."

"Enough," Odin cut them off. "Heimdall, go back to your post. Watch over Loki. And those Chitauri, we must learn more about them. Do you see their world?"

"I do not."

"Have they a leader?"

"I see one who leads, but not the one he follows. I will continue to watch and send word when I know more."

Odin nodded and Heimdall departed.

Frigga's tears spilled down her cheeks. She made no effort to brush them away. "Odin. Odin, our son."

He embraced her. "Yes, I know. We will bring Loki home. It will be all right."

He didn't believe he was lying.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


"Father, you must send me to Midgard."

"Hmm."

It was something Odin had been thinking about since Heimdall had brought him the news Loki was alive. He didn't understand what Loki was doing, nor why, but it was clear he had to be stopped. Stopped and brought home. Odin was running scenarios through his mind on how to best accomplish it.

He could send Thor. It would take some work to gather up enough dark energy to send him without the Bifrost. It was not without risk but it could be done. If he could gather enough, perhaps with the aid of others, they might even be able to send a small group of warriors to collect their lost prince. That would take more time. To send one person would the fastest.

Whoever went would have to use the Tesseract to return. Odin would have to fashion some device for that purpose in short order. Something that could hold the Tesseract and direct it to open a portal to Asgard to bring them home again.

Of course, there were others ways to get to Midgard. Pathways via Yggdrasil branching across the realms. Pathways that were not altogether stable, some more than others and some less, but someone familiar with them would not have great difficulty travelling the paths.

Loki did it often enough.

Loki thought Odin didn't know. He knew.

There were no pathways in or out of Asgard that Odin did not know. After all, he spent enough time exploring and travelling them when he was a young man. Odin had been amused to no end when he realized Loki had discovered the existence of the pathways. How the boy tried to cover up his excitement over his find, but with limited success. Burying himself in the Great Library studying everything he could find on the history of Yggdrasil and the way its branches crossed the Nine had been somewhat of a giveaway. Odin had let his boy have his secret believing Loki capable enough of traveling the pathways, if he chose. He'd done his research, his magic was strong and he was too clever to take unnecessary risks.

Still, Odin had prompted more than a few innocent-seeming dinner conversations about the nature of Yggdrasil to be sure Loki understood what he was undertaking. Odin made sure he had the answers to the questions that were vexing him.

Odin remembered the state Loki was in the first time he successfully travelled the path to Svartalfheim and back. He'd sat so straight at the dinner table that night, his eyes shining with happiness, almost bursting with pride. His mother wondered what it was that had him so pleased.

"My day has been fruitful and pleasing," Loki had told her.

Thor teased that he must be enamoured with some maiden. Odin didn't say anything at all.

Now he wondered if Thor would be able to make his way through the pathways if Odin directed him to the stronger ones. It might be possible. He might even still be able to take others with him. However, if they stepped wrongly along the way or if the pathway had degraded over time... No, if the pathways were to be used, it should be by someone who already knew how to walk them.

There were no pathways left between Asgard and Midgard. Over time the branches that once ran between them had aged and fallen away. Odin wasn't sure how the paths to Midgard from the other realms still fared. The branches swayed and moved over time with new paths forming and old ones disappearing. The last one he'd seen with his own eye had been the one between Midgard and Jotunheim. It had been strong at the time, stronger than even the ones left between Asgard and Midgard, but that had been over a thousand years ago. Not to mention in the middle of the war that would see Jotunheim left devastated.

"Father, are you even listening to me?"

He hadn't been.

"Father!" Thor sounded exasperated.

"Thor," Frigga sounded stern. "Do not harass your father. He's had a shock. We all have. Give him time."

"Of course. I apologize," Thor said. To his mother.

Odin sighed. And still his family sought to handle him. He decided he did not care for the taste of it any longer.

"Yes, I have had a shock," he said. "The son I thought dead is alive. He's alive and for reasons I cannot fathom he has aligned himself with these...creatures and prepares to attack a peaceful realm."

"Loki threatened to go to Midgard when I returned from my exile. He set the Destroyer on a town of innocent people for no other reason than because I was there. He attacks Midgard now because he is angry with me."

Odin scoffed. "You cannot know your brother's mind, Thor."

"Judging by what happened last year, the things Loki did, it's all too plain that none of us can."

Frigga sucked in a breath. Odin met his son's angry glare with one of his own. Thor lifted his chin, refusing to back down.

So here it was, what none of them talked about. What Loki did. And why. In the face of their grief over Loki's death, it had been difficult to piece together the events, and reasons, that led to it.

Thor had been lost. To him, it seemed his younger brother had turned on him for reasons unknown. He explained how Loki visited him once in his exile and told him cruel lies, and later followed by setting the Destroyer on him while Thor was mortal and defenceless. Then, upon Thor's return, goading him into a fight during which Loki screamed things at him that made no sense and led to the Bifrost destroyed and Loki dead. Thor didn't understand what led Loki to do these things. He'd pleaded for his parents to explain, but neither Frigga nor Odin were wholly certain they knew themselves. That his parents did not hold all the answers had been difficult for Thor to accept.

In the early days following Loki's death, Thor grew angrier and angrier in his grief. His storms became more destructive than they had been when he was a youth still growing into his power and learning control. Odin had been forced to intervene and ordered Thor to calm himself or see his powers tempered at Odin's hand again. Thor complied only to in turn pull away from them and further into himself. Odin despaired at seeing his vibrant, outgoing son so subdued.

Odin and Frigga decided then to sit down with Thor and explain the truth of Loki's parentage and how he'd come to be part of their family. His disbelief sent uncomfortably familiar echoes of Loki's own shock and anger upon learning his origins through Odin's mind. That they sat Thor down together to explain the truth to Thor in a way they'd failed to do with Loki himself was not lost on them.

They knew, in the face of all that had happened, it was likely Loki had showed the Frost Giants the way into Asgard on what was to be the day of Thor's coronation. But they did not know why.

They knew Loki let Laufey and his warriors into Asgard, only to turn around and kill Laufey in Odin's defence in a bizarre pantomime of filial loyalty played out for Odin's benefit. His mother had told him Odin could see and hear what went on around him, after all. But they didn't understand why Loki felt the need to do such a thing.

Frigga's belief Loki wanted to make Odin proud made no sense.

They did not understand why Loki forged an alliance with a people who were Asgard's enemies. People he'd come to know he'd been born to and yet sought to wipe out soon after he gained this knowledge.

Thor's explanation of Loki wanting to prove himself worthy made no sense.

Odin had never had cause to doubt Loki's loyalty to Asgard or to him. Not until he started making deals with their enemies. Loki was King of Asgard while Odin slept. A position he came to via Odin's own law of succession.

How much worthier did he want to be?

It was true Odin could see and hear all which occurred around him while he was in sleep. What most did not know was that sometimes his sight extended further. It was different in each sleep, but then again the circumstances were different for each as well. Odin suspected it was actually his family his sight was tuned to while in sleep, not simply his surroundings. The sleep prior to the last both his sons were not yet men. They were both on Asgard, and neither strayed far from either him or their Queen Regent mother. He didn't see them all the time, but caught many a glimpse while they were away from his bedside. Enough to be assured they were well.

This last sleep Thor was banished, Frigga never left his side, and Loki sat on the throne as Regent. He saw Frigga, glimpses of Thor on Midgard, and Loki, he did see Loki each time he came to see him, but little beyond that.

Learning later from Heimdall Loki had learned to shield himself from view had been a nasty surprise.

"No," Odin said. "No, it is plain that none of us knew what thoughts plagued his mind. We did not know because he did not tell us."

"We did not know because we did not ask," Thor shot back.

"Stop it," Frigga was quiet as stepped in between them. "There is plenty of blame to go around. We can stand here and cast it at each other all the rest of our days."

Frigga looked at them each in turn, her gaze hardening. "What good does it do Loki now? What good does it do the mortals? We must ask what actions do we take here and now?"

"You're right, Mother," Thor's tone was subdued. To his father he asked, "What do we do next?"

Odin gave it a moment's thought. Though the temptation was great to simply act, he couldn't deny support would be needed in the days to come. No matter what else happened, Asgard had to be kept united and strong.

"I will call a meeting of the council."


	2. Asgard II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

The Council of Lords was in an uproar.

They'd been quick to gather. Word of Heimdall's dramatic entrance in Odin's hall earlier in the day, followed by the summons for first the queen, then later Thor, had spread quickly. Each member of the council not already present in the capital made haste to the city as soon as word reached them of something urgent occurring. Most of the nine members making up Odin's council were roaming about in the King's Hall, talking amongst themselves and other courtiers, when the summons came for them to attend the king.

An hour after the summons went out, the council was seated as Odin told them what he wanted them to know. They listened in stupefied silence, some exchanging uneasy glances. Whatever conjecture they'd been hearing before clearly did not compare to what they were being told.

Odin delivered his news quickly, with a grim air, allowing for no interruption as he spoke.

"Heimdall has informed me my son, your prince and former king, Loki is alive. He sees him on Midgard. He has also informed me the mortals have awoken the Tesseract. Thanks to this awakening, they've drawn the attention of creatures unknown to us called the Chitauri. Heimdall believes these Chitauri seek to invade Midgard in pursuit of Tesseract."

Odin took a breath as he looked around the council table at each man seated around it. His last look was for Thor, seated at his father's right hand wearing an expression carved out of stone as he stared at the table in front of him. Odin turned his attention back to his counsellors.

"I want my son home, the Tesseract returned to Asgard, and these creatures to never reach Midgard. Now, who can tell me how I might best accomplish these three things?"

The council had plenty to say. They did not say it in any kind of dignified accordance. Within minutes, half the council was on their feet arguing amongst themselves. Some were shouting. They were all talking over one another. Odin could make out little.

"I told you he..."

"...be a stubborn..."

"...still think..."

"...forever a pain in my..."

"...flogged!"

"...you not agree, my prince?"

Thor said nothing.

"SILENCE!" Odin roared over them. The council subdued at once, all of them sitting back in their seats and looking to the king.

"I asked for options! Not a fracas better suited to an ale house. If you've nothing to offer, then what good are any of you?" Odin glared at them all until they looked properly chastened.

"My king, forgive us," Lord Forseti apologized for them all. "What you've told us is most unexpected."

"Indeed," Lord Bragi chimed in, smiling, his features flushed with relief. "To know Prince Loki lives...why it's wondrous news! You and the queen must be overjoyed."

"Yes, to know he survived that terrible fall and came to land on Midgard. Well, thank the Norns and all the Ancients! But how did Heimdall not see him before now?" Lord Ullr, the father of Lady Sif, wanted know.

"He does not know," Odin said.

"We all thought him dead," Lord Tyr reminded them. "Why would the watchman search for him on Midgard of all places?"

"Is there any way of contacting the prince?" Ullr asked. "Perhaps if we can send him a message, he can deal with these invaders since he's already on Midgard."

"By himself?" Tyr was incredulous. "Are you daft? We've only just found out he's still alive and you want to send him out to repel an invasion on his own?"

"He could always use his magic," Lord Hermod offered. "He could summon some of those doubles of his. Send those against the enemy."

Bragi sighed deeply. "Yes. He could summon 'those doubles of his'. And if the enemy touches one, what is the prince to do then?"

"He could always rally the mortals to aid him," Ullr said.

"Oh please, how much help would the mortals be?" Tyr scoffed at the idea.

"Surely they have weapons? Defences of some kind? Do they not?" Hermod directed the question to those sitting around him, receiving mostly blank looks in response.

"You want him to rally a bunch of stick wielding mortals to face down these...these... What are they called?" Tyr turned to Odin. "What do we know of them?"

"We know little of the Chitauri. They are not from any world known to us. According to the last message I received from Heimdall, they have ships, weaponry and great numbers. They have amassed a force they believe to be enough to overrun the mortal world."

"What about the Tesseract?" Odin's brother, Lord Vili spoke up for the first time from his seat at the king's left. "If we can get a message to Loki, he could get to the Tesseract and use that against them, couldn't he?"

"Is there no way Asgard can go to his aid?" Forseti said before Odin could respond. He implored the council at large. "Surely there must be some way for us to send help?"

"And how are we to get there?" Tyr asked tartly. "Do you happen to know the location of a spare Bifrost we can use?"

"There are pathways that cross all the Nine Realms are there not? We should find them. Perhaps we can send a force that way. Isn't that how the Jotuns did it?"

"I am familiar with the pathways you speak of Lord Ullr," Odin said. "And yes, the Jotuns sent their armies to Midgard along the branches of Yggdrasil, but were only able to do so with the aid of the Casket. There are no pathways out of Asgard strong enough to send forth armies, no matter what we do to strengthen them. That is why we have always used the Bifrost. There are also no paths that run directly from Asgard to Midgard. Anyone taking them would have to find their own route.

"Nor do I believe there is a way to send any kind of effective message to my son. The way I see our options are to send someone knowledgeable enough to navigate them through the pathways. Or I can begin gathering dark energy with which I should be able to send someone through a portal. Unless there is anyone who can offer me another option?"

A low murmur rose around the table, but no one offered another suggestion.

"This portal, can Prince Thor go?" Hermod asked. "Surely the princes together would be strong enough to deal with this threat?"

"I had thought of sending Thor," Odin said, nodding his agreement. Sending Thor had been his first instinct as well. Then, on an impulse, he added, "I also thought of going to Midgard myself."

The council erupted into loud discord again.

Ah, but now he had Thor's attention.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


"Father, you are not seriously considering going after Loki yourself, are you?"

Odin was grateful Thor had the good sense to keep his opinions to himself until they were back in the family's private space.

"What?" Frigga rose to her feet upon hearing Thor's remark.

"Father thinks to travel the pathways himself to Midgard," Thor told her.

"I see. Perhaps it would be best if you went instead, Thor."

"Aye, that is my thinking also."

"Stop!" Odin snapped. "Both of you cease speaking around me. I stand right here before you. If either of you have something to say, say it to me."

"Very well," Thor said. "Show me these pathways. I will go to Midgard. I can put an end to whatever it is Loki's planning and return him, and the Tesseract, to Asgard."

"I cannot simply 'show' you the pathways, Thor," Odin said, slightly exasperated. "If they were easy to travel everyone would use them. It took me years to understand how to traverse them, it took Loki years, yet you think you can simply walk them as easily as going across a bridge? We cannot wait that long."

"Another way then. You said something in council about dark energy?"

"What?" Frigga looked sharply at Odin.

"Yes, it's possible to gather dark energy and use it to open a portal. Possible, not easy mind you."

"Odin, must you take such a risk? "

"Frigga, it is no great matter. There's no reason to worry." Odin gave her a reassuring smile. She raised her eyebrows and gave him a skeptical look in return.

Thor gave his parents a wary look. "Is this dangerous?"

"It can be," Frigga told him. "It could cause harm to the caster."

"Any casting of great power can cause harm to the caster," Odin said. "It is a lesson anyone working with seidr knows well. I know it. Your mother knows it. It's an acceptable risk."

"Is it?" Thor asked.

"If it stops Loki from slaughtering yet another world of innocents? Yes. And I think you both agree."

Frigga pressed her lips together in an unhappy white line.

"Father, I want to stop Loki as much as you do, as any of us. The last message Heimdall sent said Loki already has the Tesseract. How much longer before he opens a portal? What are we to do?"

Odin didn't know the answer. He couldn't say which way was best. He wondered which option Loki would choose if he were here.

"Father?"

"Let me think, Thor. Please, I need to think." Odin turned away from his wife and son and walked out of the room. He heard them speaking as soon as he was through the doorway, but didn't bother trying to listen.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


Odin stopped walking when he reached Loki's door. He sighed in realization of where his feet, and his heart, had led him. He put his palm against the door in the echo of earlier in the day. He hesitated only for a moment before gripping the handle with his free hand and pushing the door open.

He doesn't know how long he stood in the doorway looking around the large main room. He was afraid it would look barren in the absence of the belongings that were burned. He was wrong. Odin cannot pick out anything out of place. Letting the door close behind him, he walked slowly through the room, taking it in. The plush sitting area dominating the middle of the room. The small dining area set up close to the balcony that ran the entire length of the room. The well worn chair and matching ottoman next the hearth, with a small table at the side holding a stack of books and decanter.

As he passed through the room, he noted there was no dust. The rooms still maintained as though their prince may walk through the door at any moment and start at the sight of his father standing within.

His eye swept through the room taking in the rugs on the floor, the richly detailed wall hangings, the collection of personal effects scattered throughout. Odin wonders which of these things meant the most to his son. Were those things even still here or were they burned? It's a familiar ache to his heart when he realizes he does not know.

He ignored the doors leading to the rest of Loki's rooms, feeling strangely like he was now invading his son's privacy. He took a seat at the dining table, running his fingers across the intricate carvings that ran around the edge of the polished surface. Loki ate often with the family, but he and Thor both had their own private dining areas. It was their right as they became men to eat where and when they pleased. They saw Loki less whenever he was working on a project important to him and keeping irregular hours as a result.

Odin wondered if Loki had chosen the spot for his furniture or if the servants did. Next to the balcony seemed to him an odd place for the table at first glance, but once seated he saw what a fine view over Asgard it afforded him. He rather liked the idea of Loki looking out over his home whenever he took a meal here.

"I suspected I would find you here."

Odin huffed a sound of amusement. "Are you sure you didn't suspect only after you asked the guards, Brother?"

"Don't be absurd," Vili scoffed as he crossed the room. "That would have meant interrupting their mindlessly speculating over what has King, Watchman and Council all up in arms."

"Ah. I imagine the rumours forming must be very interesting."

"Not so interesting as the truth."

Vili took a seat across from Odin and looked out across the city. "Fine view."

"Aye."

Vili turned his attention to Odin. "Loki is alive."

"He is."

"It's incredible news, Odin."

"Yes."

"Then why do you not look happy?"

"Do I not?"

Vili made a small hum of consideration. "I know my brother better than he likes to think. I know you did not tell the council everything."

Odin was slow to respond. "I did not lie," he said.

"But you did not tell them everything."

Odin said nothing as he turned his gaze back to the view. He could not see the Bifrost from here, just the sprawl of the city as it stretched toward the mountains. It was a relief to not see the remnants of the bridge. He didn't think he could bear to sit at his son's table and see the site where he fell.

"Has Loki been on Midgard since his fall?" Vili asked him.

"No."

"Where was he all this time? Surely not in the Void?"

"I am not certain."

"Odin, you know the stories told of those lost in the Void as well as I."

He remembered. He looked back to his brother. "Yes. But what were those tales save stories older children told to the younger ones to frighten them. In truth, I never believed anyone lived long after after falling. How could they?"

"How indeed."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each lost to his own thoughts. Vili shifted in his chair to stretch his legs out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankle, as he looked curiously about the room. Odin realized he had no idea if he'd ever been inside his nephew's rooms before.

"Did the council have anything interesting to say after I departed?" Odin asked.

"Oh, they rarely do, this was no exception. Tyr was on his way out to the Bifrost to harass Heimdall for news of the enemy. Probably demanding Heimdall pull a new Bifrost out of his arse so Tyr doesn't miss out on a war."

Odin snorted. "He'll be lucky Heimdall doesn't push him off what's left of the bridge."

Vili laughed. "No doubt. I left as Bragi was attempting to explain the limitations of illusion magic to Hermod."

"He has better odds of teaching Idunn's trees to compose poetry."

Vili made a noise of agreement.

"I noticed you did not have much to say," Odin said.

"I noticed Thor said nothing at all. He made Vidar look downright long-winded by comparison."

They held each other's gazes for a beat, before Odin looked away.

"What would you have me say, Vili?"

Vili took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he responded. "I would have you tell me the truth, Odin. I know you've not told me everything about what happened when Loki fell from the Bifrost. You've kept things from me. You're keeping things from me now. I wish you would not do so. I would help you if I could. You know this."

"Yes, I do know," Odin said.

Vili wasn't wrong. Odin hadn't told him what happened to Loki. What he told Vili was the same as what he told Asgard. It was the story Odin, Frigga and Thor agreed on.

Officially, King Regent Loki Odinson was killed while trying to stop the Jotuns from invading Asgard. The Jotuns again snuck into Asgard, this time succeeding in stealing the Casket of Winters which they used to incapacitate Heimdall and take control of the Bifrost. Loki stopped Laufey's attempt to murder Odin in his bed and killed the Jotun king. Together with his brother, just returned from his exile, they re-took the Bifrost only to find the Jotuns had used the Casket to jam it open in an attempt to bring their armies into Asgard. The only way to shut down the Bifrost was to destroy it and King Loki fell to his death in the resulting explosion.

It was a death that saw Loki giving his life in defence of his people and his realm. A death that saw him sent riding straight forth to the gates of Valhalla on a wave of honour and righteous glory.

It was a death Odin wanted Loki to have. A death where no one would ever ponder what could possibly make Loki cast himself into the Void and certain death. A death that still had some rise to their feet at every feast and public event to offer tribute in Loki's name. Some days Odin could almost make himself believe the public's version was what really happened.

Almost.

"I do not know how to help me," he said quietly.

"What?"

Odin cleared his throat. "Thor wants me to send him to Midgard to retrieve his brother and stop the invasion."

Vili let the abrupt change of topic pass without comment. "You would have to use dark energy to send him. I should think it would take a quite a lot to open a portal of your own making, even with Gungnir."

"The risk does not worry me."

"Perhaps it should."

"To save my son, it's worth the risk. But it's not the only way."

Vili nodded his understanding. "You're thinking of using the pathways and going to find Loki yourself."

Odin said nothing.

"May I remind you you have not walked the paths since before you became king."

"I know this."

"You're going to do it anything."

Odin smiled sadly. "If it was your son, whom you thought lost to you forever, and then suddenly found on a foreign realm? One about to be invaded, no less?

"Odin, if I had a way to get to him I would already be gone. But I am not king."

"True. I am king. I am king and father. I have always put the former ahead of the latter, as my father did. Perhaps that was mistake."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. You cannot change the past so there is no point in dwelling. Unless you mean to torment yourself."

"They say I am the wisest of all kings. Some days I do not feel so."

"Shows what they know," Vili said. "I for one have always known the wisdom in your kingship lies with your wife."

"True," Odin agreed.

"How it gladdens my heart to hear you admitting such things."

They turned at the sound of Frigga's voice and rose to their feet as she approached them.

"Frigga, we didn't hear you come in," Odin smiled at her.

"I know." She offered him a smile of her own.

"Frigga," Vili reached out to clasp her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I heard about Loki. You must be elated."

"I am. I will be more so once he's returned home."

"As will we all." Vili stepped aside to offer Frigga's his seat, holding out the chair for her as she sat and nodded her thanks. "I should be away. Please keep me apprised."

"Of course," Odin said.

Vili bowed his head to them both and left. They watched him go, waiting for the door to close before turning their attention to each other.

Odin couldn't remember a time during their long years of marriage when they were so ill at ease with each other as they were now. Though they saw and spoke to one another each day over the past year, it was like they were strangers making the effort of polite conversation to pass the time.

He didn't know how to bridge the chasm in his marriage. He didn't know if it could be repaired. Her cries of pain and horror when he told her Loki was dead, and how he died, still echoed whenever they spoke.

He'd awoken from sleep to find her frantic with the worry of what Loki planned to do.

_Now if you'll excuse me, I have to destroy Jotunheim._

Thor had gone to stop him.

She'd pushed Odin towards the door, still in his state of undress, and begged him to hurry and reach their sons. Keep them both from doing anything they'd regret.

He'd failed.

"Did speaking with Vili help you come to a decision?"

"No."

"Did you at least fill him in on the matters you kept from the council?"

"No."

"I see." She looked hesitant. It was so unlike her to not know how to approach him, Odin found he couldn't stand it.

Odin sighed deeply. "Well? Speak your mind, Frigga. If you're seeking me out, I know you've something to say." He regretted the bluntness of his words but it was too late to take them back.

She didn't react to his rudeness. "Odin, I know you think I blame you for what happened to Loki. You're right. I do."

It wasn't something he didn't already know. He tried not to let how much it hurt show on his face.

Frigga stood and slid into the chair closest to him, pulling it along the floor until she was close enough to touch him. She pressed her hand to the side of his face, letting her thumb brush along his cheekbone. He closed his eye.

"But no more than I blame myself," she finished softly. "I, too, made mistakes. Mistakes I would give anything for the chance to undo. Don't you see, my love? We have been given another chance. We can have our son back."

He wrapped his hand around hers, pulling it from his face and pressing it against his lips.

"I do not care who goes to Midgard, nor how, as long as someone brings my child home to me."

He released her hand and touched her face in a mimicry of how she'd touched his. "I don't wish to quarrel. Not with you. I am sorry. First thing in the morning I will begin the energy casting. I will send Thor to Midgard."

He wrapped his arms around her as she leaned into him in response to his words. He breathed deeply the familiar scent of her hair. They sat together for a time, watching as darkness overtook the sky and one by one the stars came out to shine.


	3. Asgard III

The next morning Odin abandoned his restless sleep to rise early. He ate a simple meal of savoury herb bread and smoked meat before retreating into his study, forgoing his usual palace walk-about. There was much that needed to be done this day. He'd given thought yesterday, and through much of the night, as to the problem that lay before him.

How to get Thor to Midgard.

The king's spacious study was set on the perimeter of the royal family's personal quarters. It was the only one of the family's rooms that could be accessed from a private hall as well as a public corridor. Odin would often enter from one side and exit the other, his way of passing between the private to public sides of his life.

Odin kept a vast library in his study. His library was made up of a long wall of shelving that rose from the floor almost to the top of the vaulted ceiling. Nearly half the shelves were dedicated solely to his books on the topic of magic. The collection contained detailed information on magic known throughout the Nine, not just Asgard. It was said to be amongst the finest collections in the realms.

He perused his books using the lift built into the floor that would take him from one end of the wall to the other and to the highest reaches. His fingers traced over the empty spaces where books had been removed for his own use or lent out to one of few people he was willing to allow access. He suddenly realized he'd seen one of the absent books just last night. It was in Loki's common room, next to his reading chair. Loki had borrowed books from his father's library ever since he'd been old enough to understand them. Odin wondered how many of his absent books he would find in Loki's rooms if he went looking.

He passed the early morning hours pulling and thumbing through books on seidr theory and workings. As Asgard awoke and busied to work he was interrupted by knocks on the pubic side of the door as a steady stream of messages started flowing in for the king. He set aside his research to read each message as they came, sending out some of his own and setting others aside to be addressed at a later time.

Odin was reading through the latest message from Heimdall for the second time when there was another knock at the door to the public corridor.

"Enter."

"Good morning, Father."

Odin pulled his attention from the missive at Thor's entrance into his study. He smiled a greeting and gestured for Thor to sit.

"I received word you cancelled the council meeting for today," Thor said, taking in the piles of books covering the surface of the desk as he settled into a chair opposite his father.

"I did. There's nothing new to be said. You will go to Midgard to find your brother and put this invasion affair to rest. Unless," he added with a pointed look," there is news you know of that I have not heard?"

Thor met his look with calm, steady one of his own. "I do not keep things from you, Father. I speak to the counsellors myself only as a means to find out if there's news so I may think on a way to resolve it before it is brought up in council."

It was a good answer. Odin approved of Thor's use of his newly developed diplomatic skills, though he was undecided on how he felt about Thor using those skills on him. He let it pass.

"I've just been going over the message Heimdall sent. He says Loki has a group of mortals working for him, that they are working on a way to open a portal. He has learned nothing new of the Chitauri."

"Yes, I know." At Odin's sharp look Thor explained, "I was speaking with Heimdall myself earlier this morning. I wanted to know what he saw."

"Is that so?" Odin heard annoyance creeping into his voice. "And did my watchman offer you news he did not see fit to give me?"

"Father, I am not withholding anything from you, nor is anyone," Thor said, defensive. "I simply wanted to know what was occurring on Midgard. And also how Loki fared."

Odin sighed, leaning back in his chair as his annoyance drained away. "What did he say?"

"That Loki looked well enough to his eyes. He gathered from some of the mortals there was a fight over the Tesseract when Loki arrived. He emerged victorious."

"Of course he did. A few mortals are hardly a match for your brother."

"All the more reason he shouldn't have attacked them at all."

"No. However, after today it will be no matter. Loki will be home."

"And what happens when Loki is home? What are you going to do?"

"We will bring him home first, then worry about what comes next."

Thor leaned forward, his voice taking on a note of urgency. "Father, he's trying to bring war to an innocent realm. Not to mention what he did before. Attacking me, sending the Destroyer to Midgard, trying to destroy Jotunheim. Letting the Jotuns into our borders in the first place the day that was to be my coronation."

Did Thor think he forgot? "I am aware of what your brother has done, as well as what he means to do."

"Then what will you do about it?"

"Whatever I must, Thor. Loki will face justice here on Asgard if any of his actions warrant it."

"If any of his actions warrant it?" Thor echoed him in disbelief "How can his actions not warrant trying to kill me? Our friends? Trying to wipe out an entire planet?"

"Oh, you mean the actions he took as King of Asgard? Trying to put down a conspiracy against the throne? Trying to end a war before it could amount to anything? Those actions?"

Odin watched as a red flush rose up in Thor's face.

"There was no real conspiracy against Loki, save in his own mind."

"Says the one who was used as the figurehead in the conspiracy against him."

Thor stared across at his father, anger and confusion waring over his features. "Why are you defending him?"

"Perhaps because he is not here to defend himself!"

"And what of Jotunheim? Will you punish him for what he did to them? As you did me."

"What did he do? He attacked a realm that declared their intention to wage war against Asgard. Or have you forgotten? I seem to recall you being present at the time. Or perhaps you were so lost to your own blood-lust you were not paying attention?"

Thor clenched his hands into fists, but said nothing in reply.

"Loki was king. Attacking those who mean to do your people harm is what kings must sometimes do. I know you know this, Thor. It is a lesson I taught you both. You, on the other hand, attacked a realm with whom we had a treaty. You committed an act of war. You were not king, you had no right to do so. That is why you were punished. Your brother simply cleaned up your mess. As he so often did."

Thor looked away, turning his gaze to a corner of the desk. He sat quietly for a couple minutes, seemingly lost in his thoughts before turning his focus back to his father.

"You mean to let him get away it? Everything he did?"

Odin sighed, growing weary of the argument. In truth, he wasn't sure what to do with Loki when he returned home. He imagined it would depend very much on Loki himself, as well as how quickly Thor could distangle his brother from his schemes on Midgard. If Loki waged a war on a peaceful realm, there would be little any could do to defend him. Odin would have no choice but to bring the force of Asgardian justice down on his youngest son's head.

He was not unaware at how well he'd backed himself into a corner with the story told of Loki's heroism in death. He could ensure the truth of the matter would never be known with the principles in the affair either dead or sworn to secrecy. With Loki alive, however, there was no telling how well the story would continue to hold up. Particularly if Loki returned to Asgard feeling less than inclined to cooperate with his father's lies. Odin tried not to wince at the sudden memory of Loki's reaction in the weapons vault upon learning the other lies told on his behalf. Those, too, had been meant to protect him.

_I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?_

_No, no._

"What am I letting him get away with exactly?" Odin asked Thor, wondering if he'd given thought to the matter. "If you ask anyone outside these doors, Loki ended the war and saved Asgard from Laufey's invasion. It's not so far outside the truth."

"Except Loki tricked them."

"He set a trap for his enemies. They chose to walk into it."

"So Loki will come home and we're to pretend things are as they were? I love my brother, but I don't see how will that be possible."

"That is not what I said, Thor. Do not put words in my mouth. Loki will be punished for any actions deemed punishable. But I will listen to what he has to say in his defence. We will go from there."

Odin and Thor glared at each other across the desk. Odin imagined, in that moment, their expressions looked very much the same.

Thor looked back to the corner of the desk. "When do I depart?"

Odin pulled his own gaze away from his son's unhappy countenance as he answered. "It will be some time as of yet. I will send for you. Be ready."

"I will." Thor rose from his chair and turned to leave.

"Thor," Odin said, pulling his son's attention back to him. "I know you have some fondness for Midgard and its mortals. But you must not allow yourself to be pulled into their affairs. You have a task before you. Get the Tesseract and your brother and return home. Do not dally. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." He nodded his dismissal. Thor bowed his head in respect before leaving his father's presence. As he pulled open the door leading out to the public corridor, Odin caught a glimpse of Volstagg lingering in the hall waiting for Thor. He expected Volstagg's duties for the rest of the day would be a mix to trying to soothe Thor's temper and letting himself be trounced when Thor finally decided to work off his frustration on one of the sparring grounds.

Odin wondered if Lady Sif was anywhere in the city. It would not be the first time in the past year she was desperate enough to escape her posting she convinced her hale and hardy father he needed an escort to see him safely to the capital. If she was present she'll likely be lending Volstagg some measure of aid in dealing with Thor at some point during the day.

Just before the door closed, Odin caught Volstagg's gaze. Their eyes held for a split-second before Volstagg hastily dropped his eyes and bowed his head. He didn't look back up before the door was shut.

Odin felt a vicious sense of satisfaction at the other man's discomfort. He was pleased to still be having an effect one year later.

In the weeks that followed Loki's death, as the worst of the shock began fade away, Odin worked to piece together the circumstances that led up to Thor's return, the Bifrost's destruction and the death of his son.

_No, Loki._

In questioning Thor, Heimdall, and numerous Einherjar he found what he believed to be one of the more significant pieces of the puzzle. Grief gave way to wrath and, after a very loud, lengthy discussion with Thor, Odin came to a decision and took action.

Odin knew Thor had wanted to warn his friends. He'd dealt with that by forbidding contact outright until the conclusion of the matter, all but daring his son to defy the commands of his king again. Thor was furious, but he obeyed, only asking Odin to get it over with quickly. Odin had sent the summons at once.

Odin was seated upon his throne at the arrival of the four warriors. As they were brought through the empty hall before him, under the escort of his own guards, he watched them with an unblinking stare. They all cast him wary glances as one by one the so-called Warriors Three and the Lady Sif fell to one knee, fist over their hearts, and heads bowed.

He left them that way for several long minutes, watching them as they tried not to display their discomfort, casting looks at one another from the sides of their eyes. Finally, he granted them permission to rise and approach the foot of the throne dais.

Odin scrutinized them for another long moment before he spoke. He raised his voice so it echoed through King's Hall.

"Sif Ullsdottir. Fandral Refsson. Volstagg Steinsson. Hogun Ingson. You have been called this day to answer charges of desertion of duty, treason, and conspiracy to commit treason against the throne of Asgard. What say you to these charges?"

He watched as one by one his words penetrated, their mouths falling open, eyes widening in disbelief. They exchanged glances with each other. Fandral looked about him as if for the first time taking in the presence of the numerous guards surrounding them.

"My king," Sif started off slowly, hesitant in her speech. "May I ask, respectfully, who brings these charges against us?"

"I do," Odin told her.

"But, my liege, my king, I..." Fandral trailed off as his usual cleverness and quick wit fled him.

"Have none of you anything to say to these charges?" Odin asked.

Sif tilted her chin up, displaying the bold assurance she's carried since she was a small child at play with his sons. "We are none of us guilty, my king. We have only ever acted in the best interests of Asgard."

Odin laughed, unamused. "You consider deserting your posts on the brink of war in the best interests of Asgard? Defying the orders of your king? Conspiring against him?"

"This is about Loki," Sif said.

Odin watched, impassive, as the realization washed across their faces.

"This is about your treasonous acts against the king of this realm," Odin said, raising his voice up another notch. "You dare think me ignorant of what occurred? You think I did not question those who were privy to your actions? Have you anything to say in your defence? Shall I begin calling in witnesses against you? Shall I call Heimdall? Thor?"

"What we did was for Thor," Sif insisted. "Thor needed to return to Asgard. Asgard needed him."

"Thor was banished! Stripped of his title! What did you think would happen if you brought a banished, powerless, and mortal former prince to Asgard? To challenge the rightful king no less?"

"My king," Volstagg spoke up, distress plain on his features, "We did not mean to act against Asgard. We thought..."

"You didn't think!" Odin cut him off. "I ask you, what is the punishment given to those banished who dare return without the king's pardon? Let me tell you, depending on circumstances it's either flogging and re-banishment or death. Did you think of that? Did it occur to you you were trying to bring my son back to Asgard only to be executed as a conspirator against his own brother?"

"Thor did not conspire against Loki!" Sif was adamant in her defence of Thor. "It was the other way around. Loki tried to kill Thor. Thor did nothing to Loki."

"Ah," Odin nodded as if that explained everything. "I see. The King of Asgard learned of a plot against him and tried to put it down by killing all involved. Perhaps you'd be interested to know I would have, and in the past have, done exactly the same. Except I succeeded in killing my enemies."

Odin didn't miss the way Fandral swayed on his feet or the way Volstagg suddenly took on a resigned air about him.

"My king," Fandral spoke in their defence. "I swear to you on my honour we meant no harm to Loki or the throne. We only meant to help Thor and defend Asgard. I swear it."

"That is what Thor told me. Fortunately for you I believe him. It is the only reason any of you still have your heads. But now there lies the question, what am I to do with an unintentional treasonous lot of fools!"

"My liege," Hogun spoke up for the first time, stepping forward to stand out from his line of comrades. "If we are to be punished, you should know it was I who spoke out again King Loki. I suspected he may have been responsible for bringing the Jotuns to Asgard the day of Thor's coronation. I could not understand how they could have got in any other way except through powerful magics and Laufey made reference to traitors in your house. I shared these suspicions with my friends. Also, it was I who insisted we must bring Thor back to Asgard."

"No, Hogun," Sif started to protest. Volstagg and Fandral both shifted as if to reach out of pull him back.

Hogun silenced and stilled them all with a sharp look before he continued. "I believed Asgard needed Thor. My actions were intended to safeguard Asgard and her throne."

"You did not think Loki capable to safeguarding his own home?"

"No, my liege."

"You believed the aspersions cast against my house spoken by one of my oldest enemies?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Perhaps you'll be surprised to learn there are other ways into Asgard beyond the Bifrost and magic, ways that are known to the Jotuns."

"I...," Hogun looked hesitant for the first time in all the years since Odin met him. "I did not know this."

"Clearly not. Well then, Hogun Ingson, I thank you for your confession. I hereby expel you from Asgard's court and warrior ranks. Upon the repair of the Bifrost you will be banished from Asgard's borders."

Hogun nodded stiffly and stepped back in the line with his comrades. Odin continued down the line.

"You are all hereby relieved of your current duties.

"Sif Ullsdottir, you will leave the capital this day and report for duty to the northern border patrol. You will only be permitted entrance to the capital on official business until further notice. I am sure your mother will be pleased to see more of you."

Odin took grim satisfaction in seeing her flinch. Undoubtedly her mother would be delighted to have her daughter closer at hand. Odin knew from years of court and dinner table talk that Sif's mother would take any opportunity to remind her of what a terrible display of a lady she's made of herself and why couldn't she be a proper lady like her sister? Between being stationed so close to her family's lands and assigned to serve in Asgard's notoriously most unexciting border patrol, it would certainly be a test of her steadfastness.

"Fandral Refsson, you will report today to Lord Tyr to serve as his new aide."

Fandral closed his eyes briefly in dismay. Tyr was an excellent War Adviser. There was simply no one more knowledgeable in any realm. And he knew it. There was no one who could serve Asgard better in that capacity. He knew that, too. The man was known well to be a terror to his aides. He was unreasonable and demanding, expecting his aide to be available at all hours to tend to whatever task, no matter how insignificant, Tyr saw fit to assign. Season after season hapless men fled his service to serve elsewhere, anywhere else, as new ones were assigned by superiors they'd displeased.

"Volstagg Steinsson, you will report to Prince Thor. He requires a personal aide to help him with his many duties as he insists on undertaking all those that were his brother's, as well as his own."

Volstagg blinked, clearly expecting something harsher. He didn't realize how hard Thor had begun pushing himself each day. It was worrying to Odin and Frigga, neither of whom knew how best to comfort their remaining son. Volstagg would be tasked with bearing the brunt of the anger and grief that still overtook him whenever Thor had no task in front of him to occupy his attention.

Odin fixed a harsh look on each of them in turn. None looked him in the eye. "You owe your lives to Prince Thor. He begged me to spare you. I will only do so once. I strongly suggest you think twice before acting against this throne again. You may leave."

They all quickly echoed their earlier motions in bowing before turning to go.

Volstagg paused in his steps, turning back to Odin. "My king."

"You try my patience."

"I know, I apologize. I just wanted to say, we are sorry for what happened. I never, we never, meant for Loki to come to any harm. We didn't mean for any of this to happen. I am so sorry for your loss, my king."

Odin had said nothing, staring at him until Volstagg looked away and hurried after his comrades.

Odin shook the memory away. He had no regrets doing what needed to be done to Thor's friends. They were fierce in their loyalty, he could not fault them for that. They would serve Thor well when he came to the throne. But, as with Thor himself, they were impulsive and needed tempering. It simply would not do if it became known they not only acted against the throne but also went unpunished. It would undermine Odin's authority and theirs as well. Warriors would be hesitant to follow them. In war, hesitation led to death.

The punishment and splitting up of the notorious group generated wave after wave of speculation and rumours throughout the court and city. But, as with Loki's death, the truth went unspoken and people soon found other matters to occupy their attention.

Odin returned his attention to his books. It was not long thereafter he found what he was looking for. He reviewed the information on the castings using dark energy and found his memory was sound in what he remembered from a spell he'd likely not laid eyes on since, well, since he had two eyes with which to see. The casting would take time, likely many hours, and would leave him exhausted by the end. The key would be to have patience and not rush through. To hasten his way through such an intricate working had the potential to burn him out, possibly even kill him.

_Have care, Odin. Castings go at their own pace. You cannot hurry them along. Try only at your own peril._

His mother's warning rang through his ears often enough when he was a young man learning and working seidr. It was a lesson re-enforced every time he heard of a casting gone wrong and the caster killed. Or worse, burned through. Still alive, but left an empty shell.

He needed a place to work. Somewhere that could be sealed off from people but large enough to contain a spell that would culminate in a portal. Odin thought for a moment then set off into the public corridor, moving quickly through the palace and arriving in the Great Hall. Used only for public ceremonies and events, it lay empty the rest of time. It would require only a few guards to keep people away.

Perfect.

He gestured at one of the guards who stood watch nearby, giving orders that would keep the guards busy as they organized themselves. He inspected the interior of the massive hall for a place to begin his work. He decided on the wide aisle that led up to the dais. He used Gungnir to channel his seidr and tapped a series of runes into the floor. Examining them closely after he was finished, he was satisfied they were set as they should be. He set Gungnir in place in the centre of the runes and started to speak the incantation to begin the working.

Time passed unnoticed as Odin recited his spell until he could feel the casting take hold in the air around him. He inspected the area. Everything seemed to be working as it should. He left Gungnir where it stood as his placeholder knowing it would continue to channel his magic in his absence. It would likely be well into late afternoon, at the least, before there was enough dark energy gathered in the casting space to begin the next stage.

Odin left the hall with the instruction to the guards that now no one was to enter until his return.

It wasn't yet mid-day. He turned his thoughts to what else required attention. He still needed something that would contain the Tesseract for his sons' trip home. Likely he could find some sort of magical vessel in the palace stores that could be molded to the purpose. It would not take long and he still had plenty of time. He could take his walk after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add I actually like the Warriors Three and Sif, quite a bit actually. But, yeah, they had this coming. As angry as he is here, Odin does genuinely want them to learn a lesson from the experience.


	4. Asgard IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

Odin's walk ate up what little remained of the morning. He paused in Loki's hall, taking note of the activity flowing in and out of his son's rooms. Fresh linens and furs were being carried in, servants busying themselves with cleaning and organizing. There were a few pieces of furniture lining the hall outside the main door, looking like they were waiting to be carried in and put into place. He realized the rooms were being prepared for Loki's return. Undoubtedly, this was Frigga's doing. Ensuring no matter was happened, when Loki returned to Asgard he would know his home was ready to receive him.

Odin sighed. It was a lovely thought, thinking Loki would be able to sleep in his own bed upon his return. But unlikely. Thor was right. There would be consequences to Loki's actions. Both for what he was trying to do now on the mortal world, as well as what he did before his fall. It would be a difficult path to walk for them all. Odin saw to it nothing was allowed to mar Loki's memory in death. Now with Loki alive, he himself may very well be the one to tarnish the story his family wove on his behalf.

He didn't know how they would navigate through the days ahead. Likely, much of it would depend on Loki and his explanations. Odin was oddly looking forward to hearing what his son had to say for himself. It was true he'd never brought trouble to this degree down on his head in the past. However, throughout his young life, whenever trouble found him, Loki had a way of twisting and weaving his way through the mess to emerge unscathed.

Mostly.

It was a talent he occasionally lent to others, most often his brother amidst some ridiculous misadventure the two of them embarked on. Odin remembered one such incident when Thor and Loki were still boys. He'd been at work in his study one afternoon only to be interrupted by a red-faced horse master, marching his wet and dishevelled sons through the door. The horse master explained the young princes had come to the stables wishing to go riding. They declined any help with their steeds and the next thing he knew, they were riding off on the king's war horse. The horse had been most unimpressed with the whole affair. He took his riders only as far as the nearest canal and promptly threw them both off his back and into the water. When Odin stood and demanded an explanation from his sons, Loki had spoken for them both.

"You said we are both to be trained as kings, Father," Loki said looking up at him, guileless and wide-eyed. "We thought that meant we must learn to ride a king's horse."

Odin made them apologize to the horse master and waved them both off to their rooms to change their clothes. He'd waited until he was alone in his study before he laughed.

Loki's ability to talk his way out of trouble only grew as he got older. It birthed many an epithet.

Silvertongue.

Loki the Liar.

The Liesmith.

The Serpent Prince.

The last one had been gifted to him with a measure of affection by a group of young nobles Loki had befriended from one of Alfheim's courts. Loki had taken to the moniker with good humour. He started having serpents carved into some pieces of his armour, donning them each time he met with his friends thereafter. It'd never ceased to delight the elves.

Odin pondered his next action. He wanted to speak with Heimdall himself before Thor went to Midgard. He took a few steps in the direction that would lead him out of the palace before changing his mind and altered his path. He wound his way through the corridors into the depths of the palace where the vast stores were laid out. He scrolled through the codex for two of the stores searching for an appropriate carrier for the Tesseract. He settled on a vessel that was already abound with magic that sang brightly as he held it in his hands.

Upon reading the object's record of history he learned this particular item had been sent to the stores many years prior by none other than Prince Loki. It was listed as having been a gift given to Asgard's youngest prince. Odin re-checked the record. The name of the gifter was not present. Each member of his family had many gifts bestowed on them over the course of their lives. Many of those gifts ended up being sent to the stores not long thereafter, usually carried off by a servant with a note declaring where the item came from and who gifted it. The record for this gift was brief. It contained only Loki's note declaring it a gift from Alfheim and instructing it to be added to the stores and the record-keeper’s notation of who sent it and when it was added to the collection.

Odin turned the object over in his hands. It was obviously not of Elven-make, though felt of their magic. Dwarven-make, perhaps. It was strong in its own right. Likely it was meant as some kind of transport for powerful magics. It was but a matter of minutes for Odin to infuse the vessel with his own seidr to alter its purpose to something that could contain and channel the power of an Infinity Stone for a short time.

He placed the vessel in the hands of guard, sending it off to await his return to the Great Hall, and ventured off to the stables. An attendant quickly outfitted Sleipnir for him and Odin mounted up and rode off in the direction of the Bifrost. In a matter of minutes he rode through the gateway that opened onto the bridge and along what remained of Asgard's great bridge. He dismounted and continued on foot until he stood at Heimdall's side at the edge of the broken bridge.

"My king," Heimdall greeted him without turning his gaze away from where it was fixed.

"Heimdall. Tell me of Loki. Do you see him?"

"Yes, though I know he is able to do so, he makes no effort to hide himself from my view."

It still pained Odin he didn't know Loki had learned to hide to such a degree even Heimdall could not see him. Where had he learned such a casting? In a moment of insight he remembered the book he saw on the side table in Loki's room. The book straight from Odin's own library. For Loki to reach a level of seidr craft more appropriate for someone centuries older than himself, from his father's own bookshelves no less, without either of his parents noticing had Odin wondering just what else he'd failed to notice about his youngest son.

"Loki is waiting," Heimdall added.

"For what?"

"I am not certain. He watches the mortals that have gathered around his banner without interacting with any. He speaks to few and not often.

Odin wondered at the motives of these people. "These mortals, are they aware of what Loki seeks to do to their world?"

"Of this I am also not certain. Though they seem eager to do his bidding."

"I see. And the Chitauri?"

"They are also waiting."

"Have you learned anything more about them?"

"I have not."

"Is there anything else of which I should be aware, Watchman?"

"The people of Asgard grow eager to hear from their king in light of the news that is spreading from one ear to the next."

There had been no official announcement that Prince Loki was still alive, but Odin was well aware rumours were already buzzing throughout the capital. Lost members of the royal family did not simply emerge from the clutches of death and return home. Being cut off from trade and communications with the other realms, on the heels of an attempted invasion, an attempt on the life of the Allfather and the death of his youngest son, had been a shock to the people of Asgard. Asgard's pride was great. It had been long since it suffered such a blow. Now, with the sense something momentous was about to occur building in the air, the people whispered. And waited. The king would only be able to ignore it for so long before he had to tell them something. Something that would hearten them. Offer hope where there may be none.

Something to be believed, no matter how grand the lie told.

It was part of the reality of being king. Odin had long since grown accustomed to it.

"You should know Loki has in his possession a spear," Heimdall continued. "It is no simple weapon for I can see it burns with power. It is not of any realm I recognize. He had it when he went into the portal and has not let go of it that I have seen since arriving on Midgard."

Curious.

"This spear, does he wield it. Or does it wield him?"

"He believes it is his to wield."

"That is not an answer."

"Is it not?"

Odin felt a roil of unease pass through him. Having Loki near the Tesseract itself was dangerous enough. He didn't like the thought of there being another unknown weapon involved. Infinity Stones were wildly unpredictable things of unmeasurable power. They could consume the unsuspecting whole. They could do worse to those who thought themselves capable of wielding them. Odin knew of few besides himself able to withstand that kind of power. Loki knew what the Stones were, he understood what they were capable of doing.

That was the inherent danger in objects of great power. There was always the possibility they could turn on their user. It was why Odin kept such objects locked away. Or hidden.

Like the Tesseract.

Loki never had an affinity for using weapons of power. Even weapons that could be used to channel magic he'd disregarded, preferring the purity of using his own being to direct the flow of his magic. He took after his mother in that sense. Loki could wield and fight easily enough with any weapon placed in his hands, but rarely bothered with anything other than his daggers. His magic was a weapon in itself. His fighting style favoured fast, precise strikes against his enemies, as opposed to his brother's style of sheer, blunt force.

Odin was at a loss. Chasing after an Infinity Stone? Attacking a peaceful realm unprovoked? Advance scouting for the invasion he himself intended to lead? It was madness. Certainly no way to wage war. Loki was raised a Prince of Asgard. He received the finest education Odin could arrange for his sons. He studied every war campaign in the history of Asgard and every campaign of note throughout the higher realms.

Loki knew better.

Odin had considered the possibility Loki's bizarre actions before his fall were the result of being overwhelmed by the power given to him, particularly so soon after discovering the truth of his birth. He was young and unprepared for kingship. But what in Bor's name could explain his actions on Midgard?

"What does the boy think he's doing?"

"If I were to venture a guess, I would say Loki is not thinking his actions through at all. It would not be the first time."

Odin blinked at Heimdall's reply, not realizing at first he'd spoken his question out loud.

After recovering from the injuries Loki inflicted on him with Casket, Heimdall had told Odin everything he knew and suspected in the events leading to Loki's fall. The Jotuns initial foray into Asgard nagged at him, for how could a Watchman not see the enemy within his own borders? He realized Loki could conceal himself from Heimdall's eyes when he went to Jotunheim to parlay, so he said, with Laufey. That was when his suspicions began.

When Heimdall saw Thor's friends discussing their plan to retrieve Thor, he'd sent for them and then left them alone in the observatory where he'd left his sword in the mechanism to operate the Bifrost, having already set it for Midgard. When Loki confronted him Heimdall asked how he got the Jotuns into Asgard. Loki told him there were paths between the worlds that to even Heimdall was blind. Heimdall took it as a confession.

Odin did as well, but would not admit so.

Odin had been horrified to learn Loki went to see Laufey by himself in light of what he'd been told regarding the circumstances surrounding his birth. He wondered if Laufey knew who Loki truly was when he was struck down.

Heimdall told him how Loki confronted him after Thor's friends departed from Asgard and Heimdall had gone for his sword.

"And Loki then did the strangest thing. He pulled from the air the Casket of Ancient Winters and used the weapon of Jotunheim against me. In doing do, it turned him into a Jotun before my very eyes."

"Is that so?"

"It is, my king."

"Powerful weapons of magic can have unexpected effects on the one who wields them, particularly if they are inexperienced in their use."

"It is as you say, my king."

They'd eyed each other, unblinking. Odin had never been sure if Heimdall knew the truth of the Loki's birth. He was on watch during the war. Odin had said nothing to him when he returned to Asgard with Loki tucked in the crook of his arm, wrapped in the tattered remains of his cloak. The infant was concealed from view with Odin's own casting until they were alone with Frigga. Heimdall never made any mention of Loki to Odin except to offer his congratulations to the king and queen after the announcement was made on the birth of Asgard's new prince.

"Even frozen, I could see and hear, but was unable to move. I heard the Bifrost open once and, as Loki walked past me, I could see Laufey and another with him briefly before they disappeared from my view. Two more left where I stood."

Odin considered all he'd been told. Heimdall was unique, no question his gifts were rare and extraordinary.

Endless were the stories of how the King's Watchman came into being. His father was unknown and his mother died in childbirth. One favoured story had him born after nine sorceresses pooled their talents to create one powerful child. Another had him gifted to his mother by the Norns themselves. There was also the story that named him yet another one of Bor's bastards. Heimdall spent much of his youth fostered in the house of Lord Ullr, before being sent to court to be educated and trained as a warrior once his gifts became apparent. He served in the Einherjar briefly until Odin decided his gifts could be put to better use watching over the realms rather than the king.

In all those years he'd never given Odin reason to doubt him. Cut off from the realms as they now were, the King's Watchman was needed at his post more than he ever was before. Odin had already lost one eye, he was in no mind to lose another.

"You will repeat what you have told me to no one," he'd ordered after Heimdall finished his recounting. "You will never breath a word, not even a hint of a whisper of a suggestion, that Loki let Jotuns into our borders. Or so help me I will cleave your head from your neck so fast not even you will be able to see the axe coming."

"I understand, my king."

"As for what occurred, the Frost Giants snuck into Asgard through the same paths they used the day of the coronation. They stole the Casket, attacked you with it, and opened the Bifrost."

"It is as you say, my king."

"Yes. It is as I say."

  


* * * * *

  


He was lost in thought as he made his way back along the Bifrost. Heimdall had nothing else to offer after his observation of Loki's behaviour. Heimdall's words had not been particularly reassuring, but at least Loki had not yet managed to open another portal. There was still time for Thor to reach him and put an end to it. He almost did not notice the familiar figure standing by Sleipnir, running a gentle hand across his mane, until he was upon her.

"Frigga," he smiled at the sight of her. "What brings you out here? Are you looking for me?"

"No, husband. I came to see Heimdall. I didn't want to interrupt."

She continued her ministrations along Sleipnir's mane, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

For a moment, Odin was jealous of his own horse.

"Heimdall tells me Loki looks well."

"Good. The casting, is it almost ready?"

"Soon, I think."

"What troubles you, Odin?"

He sighed, unsurprised she'd noticed his preoccupation. "I fear what will happen next, after Loki comes home. What is to become of our son?"

She nodded, still focused on Sleipnir. "I worry as well, but it does us no good to fear what is not yet known. Have faith in your sons, both of them. Thor will stop Loki from causing more harm."

"But at what cost? Look what happened the last time they fought. Thor says he tried to reason with Loki then and he failed. What if he is not able to convince him to let go of this madness peacefully? Perhaps I was too hasty in the decision to send Thor."

Frigga made a thoughtful noise in her throat. "Truly I meant what I said last night, I do not care who goes. But if not Thor, who should go instead? You? No, husband. I fear that would only make things worse."

Odin fell back a step as though she'd struck him. This brought Frigga's attention to him. Her expression changed from one of contemplation to regret.

"You mistake my meaning," she explained. "I meant only it's better Thor be the one to go after Loki. They are brothers. They may have quarrelled in the past, yes, but the bond between them is strong. Thor can get through to Loki. I know he can."

"But I could not?"

"That is not what I said," she said carefully.

"Isn't it? You want Thor to go to Midgard to find Loki because you think him more capable of reasoning with him than I?"

Frigga looked away to the edge of the Bifrost. "What would you have me say? You have never been very good at talking to Loki, Odin."

"He is my son."

"And yet when he hung by a thread over the Void his father failed to voice words that would have saved him."

Odin reeled at her words. He was unsure why they stung him so now. Were they not the same thoughts that plagued his own sleep night after night?

_No, Loki._

Even in the horror of seeing what his youngest son had wrought, seeing him hanging onto Gungnir with one hand, his desperate pleading for understanding, Odin had looked down into his son's tear-streaked face and said the wrong thing.

Again.

He would not make the same mistake again. He wouldn't.

"Odin?"

She was looking at him with such concern, he wondered how many times she'd said his name before he heard her. Odin looked at Frigga as if seeing her for the first time. His most beautiful wife. He saw the new lines grief had etched into her face. The strands of grey streaking through the waves of her hair. The aura of sadness that permeated her every look, every gesture, every move of her body. His once fierce queen, now so subdued.

He would not make the same mistake again. He could fix this.

"My love," Odin reached for her hand, clasping it to his heart. "I will make it right. Loki will come home. Our family will be whole once more. I swear it on all that I am and all that I have."

She looked at him with confusion as he leaned in to kiss her cheek, then her hand before releasing her. He pulled himself astride Sleipnir and turned back to the palace.

"Odin?" Frigga called after him.

"It will be well, Frigga. All will be well."

He would not make the same mistake again.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


After leaving Sleipnir with his attendants, Odin moved swiftly through the palace and into the Great Hall, not breaking stride until he reached Gungnir. With a gesture of his hand and a whispered word, the gathering power dissipated. Gungnir in hand Odin spoke briefly to one of the guards, retrieved the vessel he'd prepared for the Tesseract, and left the hall behind him. He made his way through the levels of the palace until he reached one rather quiet corner, tucked away in a corridor not far from his study. The only thing of interest in this area was the skiff anchored to the palace, there for the use of any in need.

Odin set the container and Gungnir inside before swinging one leg into the skiff.

"I suspected I would find you here."

Odin sighed. "How do you always do that?"

Vili shrugged. "Brotherly intuition?"

Odin snorted.

"Also I saw your wife as she was rushing back to the palace," Vili said, leaning up against a nearby pillar. "She told me she feared you were about to do something rash. I asked myself, would the High King of Asgard really just abandon his duties to go rushing off to Midgard after his lost son? Since I have the benefit of thousands of years of study on the topic of rashness in our family, I realized that -- yes, yes he would."

"How did you know I would leave from here?"

"You always take this skiff."

"I most certainly do not."

"Of course you do. It's your favourite."

"I do not have a favourite skiff."

"Really? Then why do you always use this one?"

Odin opened and closed his mouth twice before finding the appropriate words. "Oh, do shut up, Vili."

Vili laughed. He turned serious a moment later, blowing out a loud sigh. "You were just going to run off without telling anyone?"

Odin grimaced. "Well, no. I sent a guard with a message for Thor, to look after his mother and Asgard until I return with Loki."

There was a resounding boom of thunder in the distance.

"Your boy does not sound happy. Hopefully, you find the other one in a better frame of mind."

Odin looked at his brother. "Well? Are you not going to talk me out of this? Expound on my responsibilities? Berate my decision-making?"

Vili shook his head. "For this? No. Go, Odin. Find your son. We'll be here when you return. Both of you."

Grateful, Odin nodded his thanks and pulled himself the rest of the way into the skiff. He settled himself, laying Gungnir at his side, and released the skiff from its mooring. He easily piloted it away from the palace, setting course away from the city. In response to another crash of thunder rolling across the sky, Odin quickly pulled a casting around him and his boat to go unnoticed.

Within minutes he was beyond the city and moving quickly towards the mountains.

He would make it right.

  
**End of Part 1.**


	5. Midgard I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

**Part 2 - Midgard**

  
  


_He wanted them to kneel._

_Soon he would have everything he was promised. Everything he deserved._

_It would all be his. His power._

_Soon._

_Never would he be the one on his knees. Never would anyone dare treat him as less..._

_A beast._

_No._

_A monster._

_No._

_Under the bed._

_No!_

_He was a king!_

_This was his. No one could take it from him. No one would be able to stop him. Once the power was his._

_No one._

_Not even Him._

_They would all kneel._

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


When Loki was very small he spent a great deal of time with his mother. Upon gaining an unlooked for -- but no less loved -- second son, Asgard's Queen decided her children need her more than her realm. So, with Odin's full support, she reduced some of her duties as queen. Riding the wave of jubilation following a successful war campaign and the birth of a new prince, the public loved her all the more even if they saw her less. There were, however, still whispers about the parentage of the new baby. Whispers that dared not grow louder in the face of the considerable public support of the royal family.

Frigga delighted in spending more time with her sons, as well as having her husband home safe and triumphant. Her happiness shone in every public appearance for years thereafter. This was the period of Frigga's life those who knew her best would say she was the happiest and most content.

Before long Thor was at an age when he began to have lessons with tutors and interacted with playmates other than his little brother. Loki was still too young for his brother's new activities and was soon spending almost as much time in his mother's company as he did his nursemaids. It came then as little surprise when Loki began to emulate his mother. This was no more apparent than when Loki learned to walk. After he adjusted to the idea of being upright, the strength in his legs followed and his toddling gait grew more confident. He could often be seen following after his mother trying to match her regal glide with one of his own as she went about her tasks.

The first time Odin witnessed this for himself he was walking through one of the corridors adjacent to the family quarters when he spied the familiar form of his queen walking toward him. It was a moment before he realized she was not alone. He stopped where he was to just watch his wife and son. Frigga moved slowly enough for Loki to keep up to her.

And Loki...

Loki was oh so carefully matching his mother's stride, moving himself forward with only a trace of wobble here and there as he imitated his mother's grace. He held his hands clasped in front of him with chin held high, the perfect mimic of the queen. He glided along the corridor in his mother's wake, stopping occasionally to correct his stance before carrying onward. As Frigga moved her head graciously to nod and smile at people who passed by her, so did Loki.

"Good day, husband," Frigga greeted him with a warm smile when they reached him.

"Papa," Loki offered him his own bright smile.

"Well, hello to both of you," Odin returned their smiles. "What brings you both forth today?"

"It's a lovely day. Loki and I are going to visit the gardens. When Thor's finished with his morning lessons, his tutor is going to bring him out so he can join us for a meal. You're welcome to join us as well, of course."

"Is that so?" Odin knew Frigga would understand when he declined. He had meetings the rest of the morning and would hold court in the afternoon. He doubted he would have time to eat before evening fell. "That sounds like a fine plan, but I'm afraid..."

"Please, Papa. Please."

Odin looked down at his small son. He still had his hands clasped in front of him, chin tilted upward so he could look at Odin with wide eyes.

"Loki, you know Papa is very busy," Frigga said gently. It was not the first time she had to explain his absence to theirs sons. Nor would it be the last.

Loki nodded. "Yes, Papa is king."

"Yes, Papa is sometimes busy being king," Odin said. He crouched down to put himself eye-level with his son, leaning in to whisper in a playful tone. "But he is not so busy today he cannot enjoy a meal in the gardens with his family."

Loki promptly lost his carefully maintained regal bearing when he threw his arms around Odin's neck in a fierce hug. Odin scooped him up and returned his hug. He pressed a kiss to Loki's cheek and ran a hand over the top of his head, smoothing his dark curls, before setting the child back on his feet.

"I suppose if I'm to meet you for a meal I'd best attend to my work. I will see you both later."

Frigga and Loki set off, Loki once again matching his mother's form.

Odin returned to his work. It was hours later, when he sat attending to court affairs, he realized he'd forgotten his promise to meet his family in the gardens.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


"I don't like it," Steve said. Nothing about this felt right to him. Least of all the silent prisoner sitting in the jet with them, staring at nothing.

"What, Rock of Ages giving up so easily?"

"I don't remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop."

"Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow," Stark said, looking him over. "What's your thing, Pilates?"

 _What?_ "What?"

"It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle."

Steve took a calming breath. He wasn't going to get mad. He certainly wasn't going to start something with Howard's kid. Not now anyway.

"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in."

"Yeah, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you."

Steve met Stark's pointed look, wondering what else he was missing. He glanced over at their prisoner again. Still sitting. Still staring.

"So how's the whole defrosted thing working out for you?"

Steve took another deep breath.

The rest of the flight was quiet. Loki didn't utter a word.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


Over the years Loki grew to be great in height, his body filling out as he went through the warrior's training expected of the son of a king. The grace in movement he learned as a child following his mother through the palace halls never left him. He adapted it in the way he moved through his life, the way he fought, and the way he used magic.

That grace served Loki particularly well when he began exploring the pathways through Yggdrasil. It was a natural grace Odin himself could never achieve though he had thousands more years of experience. Odin moved through the pathways with as much caution as a sure foot. For Loki, the knowledge of where to go seemed instinctive. Odin envied it as he moved through the paths, letting his own knowledge guide him through. He made it to Alfheim easily enough, leaving his skiff behind him in Asgard not far from the entrance to the pathway. The path between Asgard and Alfheim, though narrow, was one of the oldest and strongest paths anywhere along the Tree. It was the first path Odin travelled as a young man first setting out to explore Yggdrasil and it never ceased to guide his steps true.

From Alfheim he set off for Midgard. It took him some time before he found the correct place to step off deep within a cavern few beings knew existed. It was an old, twisted path and Odin moved along it slowly and carefully, using Gungnir to steady himself. He was beginning to wonder if the pathway had shifted since he walked on it last, if it even still went to Midgard or would simply break off and stop at some point. He began to despair at the time wasted should he have to backtrack and find another way when he finally stepped onto solid ground.

Odin looked around him at the dense, ancient forest he stood in. The pathway behind him was indiscernible amongst the towering trees. He reached out with his senses, testing the world around him before smiling in satisfaction.

Midgard.

The forest around him was silent, though he could feel the presence of its many inhabitants watching him from their nests and burrows. He paid them no mind. If he judged his position correctly he stood in one of this world's northern regions. He was some ways from the nearest sea and mortal settlement. If his memory served him, there were once several settlements near the area he now stood, but they have long been washed away by the tide of time. He wondered if the mortals even knew those settlements had existed, or if everything about them was gone, remembered only by the earth beneath.

No matter. He had not come to pay visit to mortals who once thought him their god. He was here to find his son. He pressed his hand firmly around Gungnir as he used the staff to push his mind outwards. Loki's hand had once held Gungnir. Odin could use Gungnir's own memory of its previous king, as well as Odin's feel for Loki's seidr, to locate his lost child.

Ah. There.

Loki was some distance away, almost on the other side of the mortal world. Odin pulled his seidr back and focused it inward. With a thought he was gone.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


Nick Fury leaned against a handrail as he faced Coulson and Romanoff. "Okay, thanks to Banner and Stark we at least now know Loki needs the iridium and Selvig to build another portal. Question is, to bring through what exactly?"

"We're probably looking at an invasion," Coulson answered.

"But who? How sure are we Asgard isn't hostile?" Romanoff asked.

Coulson shook his head. "I don't think Thor has anything to do with this."

"Thor could be dead for all we know," Fury said. "We need more information. Romanoff, talk to Loki. Get him to tell you something. Anything to give us an edge while Banner and Stark are looking for the Tesseract.

"Director."

"Not now, Hill."

"We need..." Coulson began.

"Director Fury!"

Fury turned at the sound of alarm in Hill's voice. "What is it?"

"Something's happening," she said, examining one of the computer screens. "Our systems are going crazy. I'm seeing power surges everywhere."

"What the hell!"

"Where did he come from?"

At Coulson and Romanoff near simultaneous exclamations everyone's eyes went to the monitor overlooking their prisoner. There was a figure standing in front of the cage. It was an elderly man, white hair down to his shoulders, clad in armour and a red cape and holding a spear taller than he was. He was looking in at the prisoner.

Loki was on his feet looking back, white-faced and wide eyed.

A split second later alarms began going off. The stranger glanced around him and then up in the direction of one of their cameras. He lifted his spear up and tapped it to the ground. The alarms went silent and the camera feed turned to static.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a [ light-hearted thing ](http://theotherodinson.tumblr.com/post/99926989104/avengers-au-odin-goes-to-midgard-instead-of) on Tumblr that sort of represents a summary of Part 2, if anyone cares for a break from all the angst.


	6. Midgard II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

_No!_

_Why?_

_Why was his fa...the Allfather here?_

_Ruin everything._

_Another stolen relic._

_No. He would not fail._

_He was a king. Kings do not fail._

_But...why?_

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


When Odin found Loki, he was inexplicably within some kind of mortal-constructed clear enclosure. Odin could sense no magic woven in its walls, saw no markings carved around its perimeter.

Loki shot to his feet the moment he saw him, shock washing across his face. Odin tried to smile at him, but his mouth suddenly felt heavy and he wasn't sure he managed it.

"Hello, Loki."

Loki just stared at him.

Odin indulged himself with drinking in the sight of his son standing before him, living, breathing (not falling!). His hand holding Gungnir began to shake, so he tightened his grip. For the first time since Heimdall spoke his words just days ago it finally seemed real. Loki was alive.

He saw Loki's eyes flick away from him for a split second. Odin fought down a disappointed sigh. Already his boy sought to run away from him. He supposed Loki being happy to see him had been too much to hope for. Odin should have known better.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


There was a flurry of activity in the wake of their mysterious arrival. Hill issued a series of rapid-fire orders to ensure their operations were stable and undamaged. Coulson raised a small army out of every available person on the ship to converge on the corridor surrounding the room where their mystery man appeared.

Appeared. Out of thin air. With no warning. Right outside Loki's cage. In the place in which they no longer had any working recording devices.

Fury called for Rogers to join their containment force. Rogers' responded with a clipped affirmative. He also contacted Stark, asking him to suit up, but remain with Dr. Banner for the time being. Stark replied with questions about what was going on and how come all the systems went batshit at the same time.

"We've got more company. Just stay where you are. Finding the Tesseract is still our highest priority," Fury said, cutting Stark off. He didn't doubt Stark would be in their systems before long to find the answers he wanted for himself. Maybe he could figure out how to get their eyes and ears back into Loki's cell. Nothing Fury hated more than going into a situation blind and deaf.

Their organizing took only minutes before Fury was leaving the bridge, flanked by Hill and Coulson. Romanoff had been out the door almost as soon as they lost their video feed to investigate what was going on. They moved quickly through the corridors to the containment area, picking up more soldiers and armed personnel as they went. The area surrounding their blind spot was already packed with people, weapons, and monitoring equipment when they arrived. Romanoff was no where in sight.

He was about to radio and ask her position when she spoke though his earpiece.

_"Still two on the inside."_

"What's happening in there?"

_"Apparently, a staring contest."_

"Who's winning?" Fury wanted to know.

_"Hard to say."_

"Got ears?"

_"I do now. All I can tell you is they definitely know each other. And I don't think Loki was expecting this guy. He's not part of Loki's plan."_

"Let's hope that gives us something to work with." Fury moved to the door as everyone fanned out around him and took up positions. He hit the door release without hesitation and walked inside.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


"Excuse me. My name is Director Fury. Can I ask who you are and how you got in here?"

The man glanced over at him, giving him a once over, before turning to face him as Fury approached. Fury did not react to his first real look at the man. He'd never considered a gold eyepatch before. And he wasn't sure how it was staying in place. Probably he didn't want to know.

The man didn't move from his spot in front of the cage, the same spot Fury himself had been standing not long ago. Fury got within about five feet of the other man and positioned himself to not be in his own people's line of fire. He knew he had passed on control to Coulson and Hill the moment he stepped over the threshold. If a fight broke out, he'd have little cover. The control panel that would drop the cage was set too close to a wall to be any use and at present, the stranger was closer to the controls than he was. If it came to it, to get to them Fury would have to charge almost straight at the man. He'd didn't care much for those odds.

Up close, the other man was not tall. He was shorter than Fury in fact. He looked to be in his seventies, but Fury didn't think for a second he was looking at a human being. The man appeared broad shouldered, but it may have been an effect from all the armour. The armour itself was intricate and impressive, if he wore any kind of insignia Fury couldn't recognize it. The whole get-up looked heavy as hell, but the man seemed unbothered by it. He wore no visible weapons. The spear he held, though it narrowed to a wicked point at one end, lacked the blade of Loki's spear, as well as the glowing stone. It looked like a simple, shiny gold staff by comparison, but he didn't doubt it would still hurt like a bitch if the guy decided to stab him with it. The man stood straight and confident, giving off the air of being the biggest man in the room and the only one whose opinion mattered. The kind of man who truly believed himself untouchable.

Fury knew the type.

The man gave Fury a long, studied look, like he was expecting some kind of reaction. Fury had no intention of giving him one as he set his hands on his hips and waited for an answer to his question.

"I am Odin, King of Asgard," the man finally said.

Great.

"Asgard, huh? That's where he says he's from," Fury said with a nod at the cage.

"Yes. Loki is my son."

Well, at the very least, it bore out what little they knew from Dr. Selvig about Thor's family tree. Odin, the all-powerful Norse god of old, is daddy. Loki, the lying trickster for the ages, is baby brother. Fury sincerely hoped that mommy, the goddess of marriage and destiny, wasn't going to be making an unscheduled appearance Earth-side as well.

Fury didn't dare take his eye off Big Daddy, even as heard Loki make a scoffing noise from within his cage. Odin gave his son an inscrutable look before turning his attention back to Fury.

"Your son, do you know why he's here?" Fury asked him. "Is it at your behest?"

"I do. And no."

Fury wondered at how the son was the chatty one. He spared a fast glance to the side where Loki was watching them, suspiciously quiet. Had been the chatty one, he amended.

"Your son appeared uninvited in the middle of one of my bases," the 'just like you' going unsaid. "He attacked my people and stole a valuable object. My base was destroyed in the process. A lot of people lost their lives. Maybe a pile of dead bodies doesn't mean anything where you come from, but it means a helluva lot to us."

Odin inclined his head briefly. "My sorrow for your dead."

Fury always thought he had a good poker face. He had nothing on this guy, he was inhumanly still. Unlike Loki, he couldn't get any kind of read off Odin. He wondered if Romanoff was fairing any better.

"Gee, thanks" he said sharply. "I'm sure that will be of enormous comfort to their families."

At that, Odin tilted his head back a fraction, looking at him down his nose. It was an oddly familiar expression. It wasn't the first time today Fury had been on the receiving end of such a look. No question, this was Loki's father.

"Are you mocking me, mortal?"

Odin's tone was mild, yet Fury was sure if he'd still had hairs on the back of his neck, they would be standing at attention.

"I believe he is, Allfather," Loki piped up.

"Be quiet, Loki."

 _"Go very carefully, Nick,"_ Natasha advised. _"Remember this guy is basically a god, on top of being a king from an ancient warrior culture. He's probably not big on being challenged."_

_"Can he made his armour disappear and re-appear like his kid? Can you ask him? Banner and I would really like to know how he does that."_

_"Stark, get off the comm!"_ Hill barked over the line.

"No, not mocking," Fury said cautiously, holding up a placating hand. "Just pointing out how your son has been here for two days and is responsible for causing a lot of pain and misery."

"I see." Odin turned his head to look at Loki for a long moment before returning his attention to Fury. "I am sorry for the needless deaths brought about by my son's arrival on your world. I am aware he is the one who started a fight with your warriors. I apologize for his actions. Asgard has no desire to war with you. Loki will be punished for bringing hostilities to your world.

"I am also aware many of the deaths you mentioned came not at Loki's hand, but as the result of the explosion caused by the Tesseract."

"Your son is responsible for that as well, sir. It was his arrival here that caused the Tesseract to release that much power," Fury pointed out.

"There is no way to know what lies on the other end of a pathway one has never travelled before," Odin spoke like he was reciting some age-old wisdom. "The Tesseract was never meant for mortals. Had it not been for your people's meddling in matters they could not possibly understand, I'd wager your base would still stand."

"Be that as it may," Fury said, struggling not to clench his teeth, "it still doesn't change the fact Loki attacked us unprovoked and stole the Tesseract."

Odin smiled humourlessly. "The Tesseract belongs to Asgard. My son is a Prince of Asgard. He could hardly 'steal' that which belongs to him."

"The hell he couldn't," Fury shot back.

 _"Just a reminder, his other son's powers include commanding lightning and whipping up tornadoes. I'd rather not spend my afternoon scraping you off the floor if you piss this guy off,"_ Natasha said.

_"Yeah, that would suck."_

_"Stark!"_

"Look," Fury said, striving to keep his tone respectful, "the Tesseract belongs to Earth. It was on our planet. We found it. It's ours. We want it back."

"What you want is of little concern to me, Director Fury," Odin said. "The Tesseract was only here because I placed it here for safekeeping long ago. I was not made aware it had been disturbed until recently, otherwise I would have retrieved it long before now. As I said, it is not meant for mortals."

"Do you know where the Tesseract is? You say you don't want war with us, are you aware of what Loki intends to use it for?"

"No. And yes. I can assure you I will find it and put a stop to what my son is planning. We will return to Asgard, with the Tesseract, and trouble you no further."

"Your son attacked us unprovoked," Fury pressed.

"I am aware," Odin was starting to sound testy, "and as I said, he will punished for those actions. After we've returned to Asgard."

"Sir," Fury began, marshaling up a 'I'm a reasonable guy, you're a reasonable guy, let's be reasonable here' tone he most certainly did not feel. "When we captured Loki he was busy terrorizing a crowd of innocent people. That was after he gouged out a man's eyeball. He's our prisoner. Understand, we're not letting him out of that cage as long as he poses a threat us."

Odin stared at him. Then his lips quirked, like he was fighting a smile.

It was a strange reaction, catching Fury off guard. And it pissed him off. He could feel his spine stiffening in response. So much for reasonable. He thought he heard Natasha sigh.

"Is there something funny?"

"I am sorry, Director Fury, but you seem to under the impression this 'cage' of yours is actually imprisoning my son. Though I assume he has his own reasons to be within it and make you believe it is holding him fast."

Fury didn't hesitate to pivot and back up so he could have father and son well within in his line of sight. He'd been assuming Loki was contained and keeping his focus on dealing with Odin up until that point. His mistake. One look at Loki's infuriated, thwarted expression told him Odin was right on the mark. Loki had let them bring him in. Loki was still here. There had to be a reason. Were they being set-up for something?

Fury heard a muffled curse float in from the corridor and a quiet, rapid exchange of words, both over the comm and not. Everyone re-assessing the threat.

"And just what would those 'reasons' be?" Fury asked, his hand hovering over his sidearm, for all the good it would do him.

"This I do not know, but I will find out. Loki Odinson, you stay right where you are."

Fury didn't know how to react to Odin's casual statement, delivered without turning his attention away from Fury. He checked the cage. Loki appeared to have not moved from the front and centre place he'd been standing since Fury first came in. His expression, furious a moment ago, seemed blank. He saw a hint of movement along the edge of his vision. He turned his head just in time to see Loki seemingly step out of a shadow behind his father. Fury looked back at the figure in the cage in time to see the double disappear.

"How the hell..." Fury hadn't expected this. Bad enough dealing with this guy, now his unhinged kid was back in play. He heard Coulson's "coming in" in his ear seconds before Fury felt him standing at his shoulder. Fury was grateful for his presence, even as every available soul with a firearm was already lining the corridors around them. He just didn't know how much good it would do if they needed them. He remembered all too well what Loki had managed to do in just a few minutes in the base two days ago, along with Natasha's reminder of his brother's abilities. Big Daddy's firepower didn't bear thinking about.

Odin ignored Coulson's arrival. He'd turned his back on them to face down his kid. Fury had an excellent view of the rage marring Loki's features, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. At least now they knew there was something that could wipe the smirk off his smug face. Fury didn't know if it was a good thing or not. He and Coulson exchanged looks. At least Coulson agreed with him.

"Loki," Odin said heavily, "I know not what has brought this about. You know I cannot allow it to continue. You will stay will me until we've recovered the Tesseract. Then we will return home."

Loki laughed, a broken, snarling sound. "You are delusional, old man, if you think I will go anywhere with you. The Tesseract is mine. This world will be mine. You will not stop me from taking the birthright that was promised me!"

As far as tantrums went, it wasn't a bad one, Fury thought. All that was missing was the stamping feet.

"Oh? Is that so? So be it."

Odin struck the butt of his spear on the ground once, then picked it up and leveled it at his son. Loki's eyes went wide with fear a split second before he was hit with a blast of brilliant light.

Fury and Coulson both recoiled and covered their eyes as the brightness overwhelmed the room. When it passed and they were able to see clearly again, Odin was once more facing them and Loki...Loki was standing at Odin's side with his father's free hand gripping his upper arm. Loki was wearing heavy, embossed cuffs around each wrist, linked together with thick chain. Fury couldn't make out the symbols carved into the metal, just that there were a lot of them, they looked like they went all the way around, and they almost seemed like they were shifting as he watched them. Along with the cuffs, Loki wore some kind of metal mask that covered his mouth. Much like Odin's eyepatch, Fury couldn't tell how the mask stayed in place. Loki ignored them entirely, too busy glaring daggers at his father.

"Excuse me, King Odin," Coulson took a step forward. "May I ask what you've done?"

"Nothing forged by mortals could contain my son's magic. These will. Once we have retrieved the Tesseract, we will return to Asgard and impose on you no further.

"Wait a minute, just hold on," Fury interjected. "Understand we can't just let you leave."

Odin raised his eyebrows. "And how do you propose to stop me?"

"What Director Fury means is, we have unfinished business with your son," Coulson explained smoothly. "Director Fury explained how Loki attacked our base?"

"Yes."

"He didn't just kill our people and take the Tesseract. He also abducted some of our men. He did something to him, changed them somehow so they'd obey his commands. We want our people back."

"I see," for a moment Odin seemed weary. "Rest assured, Asgard owes you recompense for Loki's actions. We will pay it, as well as return your people."

Odin scanned his surroundings. For an absurd moment, Fury wondered if he was looking for the exit.

"Ah, the sceptre. You do have it here. Good." Odin let go of his spear and reached out his hand. The thing somehow stood upright by itself as Loki's sceptre appeared in Odin's outstretched hand.

Fury tried not to wince at the confused and indignant squawks that erupted in his earpiece.

_"Oh, come on!"_

_"Stark, for the last time..."_

_"It's gone, Hill! The sceptre."_

_"What?"_

_"Loki's disco stick. It just did a disappearing act."_

_"Odin has it,"_ Natasha told them. 

_"Shit!"_ Stark and Hill said. 

Odin examined the sceptre with the look of a man who knew what he was looking at. Fury figured that put him one over them.

Fury took two steps forward. "You can't take that."

Odin spared him a brief glance. "I can. I will. Good day to you." He tucked the sceptre under his arm, grabbed hold of his own spear, tapped it once, and was gone. Odin, Loki, the sceptre. They were left with nothing.

Fury stared at the spot where Odin had stood with a glare that should have incinerated the steel plating. He didn't look away even as he heard Natasha dropping to the ground close by. "Does someone want to tell me," he said, his voice low and level, "what the hell just happened here."

Coulson backed up a step. Between the look on Fury's face and the chaos of curses echoing through his earpiece Coulson suspected it was going to be another long day. And probably filled with yelling.

  
  



	7. Midgard III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

As soon as their feet touched solid ground, Loki wrenched himself out of Odin's grasp. Odin let him go, watching as Loki's eyes searched their surroundings for an escape. He would find none. Odin brought them to a place high up in the mountains. There was no access to this narrow shelf they stood upon, save to drop down on it from above. Nor was there enough oxygen in the air for mortals to breath unaided should they be foolish enough to attempt pursuit. Odin stood and waited for Loki to accept there was nowhere for him to go, expect down. When he saw that knowledge filter through Loki's expression, Odin moved between his son and the edge.

No, that would not happen again. Never.

Realizing there was no way out for him, Loki took up a stance opposite Odin, standing as far from him as he could in the small space with his back to a wall of rock. He looked pointedly down at the mask encasing his mouth and jaw before turning angry eyes back to his father. With a wave of Odin's hand, the guard over Loki's mouth disappeared. Loki stumbled back a step and coughed, working his jaw, and bringing his still shackled hands up to rub the part of his face that had been covered. Odin knew very well the guard could not have caused Loki any harm, nor had it been on long enough for discomfort to set in, but said nothing.

Now that it was just the two of them, away from the flying ship full of fragile mortals, Odin had no reservations about taking fewer precautions. Loki could not harm him. He knew not what game Loki had been playing with his captors, but once he made plain he'd tired of playing at prisoner Odin had to step in to keep the mortals safe. Loki had done more than enough damage to them already.

He hadn't been lying when he said the mouth guard and wrist cuffs would contain Loki's magic. Truth be told, they were designed to contain the most powerful of magic users. Used together they could block magics from being cast in any and every form. These guards were meant to be used on those who cast their powers in a way that harmed innocents, or those so far overtaken by dark magics they could no longer tell friend from foe. They had been used only a handful of times to Odin's knowledge, the last being several centuries ago. Odin believed they would have been strong enough to contain even him before he'd taken up Gungnir.

Odin never imagined a time when he would use them on his own son. It had been a split-second judgement made on the ship in the face of Loki's reaction to him to force his magic into containment, using the strongest of bindings. He knew Loki would recognize what they were when he saw them. A small cruelty, perhaps. He was also very well aware it would be something Loki would resent him for fiercely. But it was worth the consequences, for Odin would see no more dead mortals at Loki's hand. Knowing the things Loki had done, had grown capable of doing even before his fall, forced Odin to admit he was unsure of Loki's capabilities. He did not know what, if any, power Loki may have taken from the Tesseract in the time it was in his possession.

And then there was the matter of the sceptre. Oh, he knew what it was. He knew as soon as he set foot on that flying ship and felt its enticing call ringing through the air. Odin held the sceptre against Gungnir, felt the push and pull as the two tested one another's power. He wrapped both hands around them as he bid Gungnir to act as guard against the poisonous thing. Odin felt Gungnir's power wrapping itself around the sceptre, acting as a buffer against its power as even now it tried to reach out to the one who carried it. Satisfied Gungnir had the thing well enough contained for a time, Odin left them standing to the side and turned his full attention to Loki.

Loki was still, watching him carefully. His eyes darted back and forth between the sceptre and Odin. His hand flexed as if he was trying to call something to him. Odin knew very well what. Loki stopped when he saw Odin watching him. Loki closed his hand into a fist and hugged it against him. He struggled to keep his expression blank as he returned his father's steady gaze.

It was never something he'd been very good at when he was upset.

"I thought you dead."

Loki tilted his head to the side a fraction. "Did you mourn?"

Odin stared at him in disbelief. "How can you me ask that?"

Loki huffed a soft laugh. "Well, I would think it would have been a relief to finally be rid of me. Your embarrassing mistake. How easier it must have made it for you to stop pretending you had two sons."

"I do have two sons," Odin said, his voice firm. "Their names are Thor and Loki. I thought one lost to me, yet here before me he stands. You cannot know the relief I feel." Odin stepped forward, stretching his hand out to touch the side of Loki's face. Wanting proof he really did stand before him, that this wasn't all just a dream from which he would soon wake.

Loki jerked his head back with a hiss. "Don't! Don't you dare feign concern for me."

"Loki," Odin choked out, his throat suddenly feeling thick as he dropped his hand back down to his side. In the moment he never believed would come to pass, to see his son again, Odin struggled for words. He swallowed to clear his throat. "I have missed you, my boy."

Loki stared at him, eyes wide. "Stop lying."

"I speak no lie. I have mourned you every day you were gone. As have your mother and brother."

He thought he saw a hint of moisture in Loki's eyes before Loki abruptly turned and moved away, putting distance between them. Odin let him alone. He moved along to keep himself between Loki and the rocky edge, keeping the spears at his back. He contented himself with watching Loki as he prowled restlessly about the small space.

Odin drank in all the details he hadn't had a chance to take in when they were amongst the mortals. Loki was still every bit as tall and lean as Odin remembered, if a bit pale. He didn't remember Loki's cheeks looking so hollow either. His hair was longer and so much messier than the way he normally wore it. Loki had been fussy about his hair at an early age. One day when he was still a small child, he'd marched into the family dining room, up to the table, and seated himself without a word as his family stared at him. His hair had been plastered to his head in a ruthlessly slicked back style that left no curl anywhere to be found. When questioned Loki declared his curls were too "babyish" for his liking and wanted them in his hair no longer, much to his mother's dismay.

Odin realized suddenly Loki's hair was not the only thing changed about him. His clothes were different. Odin found this odd. This wasn't the formal armour Loki had been wearing when he fell. In fact, it looked very much like the more casual armour Loki favoured before that one, though it looked more worn than the last time Odin saw it. The new armour had been commissioned especially for Thor's coronation. It followed tradition and was meant to reflect Loki's new standing as the King of Asgard's brother and adviser. Thor had new armour commissioned as well.

The evening before the coronation, the boys had been in their parents' rooms to show off their new armour. They arrived one after another as they escaped the fussing of the armourer. While Thor's armour stayed similar in style, Loki's had been a departure in style from the ones he'd worn in the past. Frigga had fussed over each of them in turn, beaming with pride at her sons. She'd admired the new, sleeker silhouette of Loki's helm, impishly pinching his cheek as she commented as to how nicely it complimented his cheekbones.

"Mother, please," Loki had complained, ignoring his brother's snort of laughter that sounded suspiciously like "cow".

"Oh hush now," Frigga said. "Let your mother admire how handsome you look. I'm a very fortunate woman, surrounded by all these handsome men. And after tomorrow, I'll be spending so much more time with the handsomest one." At that she gave Odin a saucy wink which he returned with one of his own. Thor and Loki had both groaned and began tossing out excuses to leave even as they were backing towards the door as one.

Odin almost smiled at the memory, but then remembered it was very likely Loki knew the whole time what would occur the following day. That he'd begged off going out into the city with Thor and their friends to celebrate on the premise he needed to finish the speech he was meant to give at the beginning of the feast that would follow the coronation ceremony. Even then, as a prince of the realm, he'd betrayed his people and his king by opening Asgard's borders to its enemies.

Odin still didn't understand why.

"Loki," he said, "where is the Tesseract? Will you tell me?"

"With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did you have to muster to conjure yourself here?" Loki's voice was harsh when he spoke, ignoring his question.

"I did no such thing. I walked."

"Excuse me?" Loki's face was the picture of confusion when he finally stopped pacing about the narrow ledge and turned to face him.

Odin smiled gently. "You think you're the only one who can walk the paths between the worlds? Clearly you've forgotten who gave you the answers to the questions which plagued you while you were still learning the pathways yourself."

Loki blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Why have you come?"

"I came because my son is here. I came to stop you from attacking a peaceful realm. I came to bring my son home."

"Your son?" Loki drew the words out in a sneering tone. "Oh, did you bring Thor along as well?" He turned his head from side to side as if searching his surroundings. "Forget him somewhere along the way? Or did he come across some mortals he simply had to stop and fawn over?"

Odin was taken aback by the venom he heard in Loki's voice. "Loki, stop this," he said. "You are my son, you always have been. I do not know where you have been or what you've been through, but what you are planning ends here. I will not allow it."

Loki smiled. It was a horrible, bitter thing. "Not even you can stop what is to come."

"Meaning what?"

Loki raised his eyebrows, the picture of confused innocence, and shrugged.

"You have a home," Odin tried. "You have a family who loves you. Do you remember none of that?"

"I remember a shadow, living in the shade of Thor's greatness. I remember him tossing me into an abyss. I who was and should be king."

Odin raised his own eyebrows at that. "Should be? Do I not still draw breath?"

Loki glared at him. "You were going to make Thor king."

"Yes," Odin agreed. "I was. I didn't if you recall. Since the throne did not pass when I went into sleep the law of succession granted you the regency, as was your right as my only adult son in good standing at the time. But, Loki, you know the regency ends upon my readiness to resume my duties."

Odin spread his arms out, keeping them low as he looked down at himself then back up at Loki. "As you can see, Asgard's king fares well."

Loki stalked off, uttering a hissing sound. He turned back to face Odin abruptly before he spoke. "I've seen worlds you've never known about! I have grown in my exile, All-Father. I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it..."

"What?" Odin asked him urgently. He stepped carefully across the ledge, closing the distance between them. "What will you do, Loki, when you take up the Tesseract? Rule this mortal world?"

"Why should I not? They slaughter each other in droves. Why shouldn't I rule them?" Loki laughed suddenly, embittered. "Afterall, are you not the one who told me I was born to be a king?"

"So, all of this because Loki desires a throne?" Odin shook his head. "From where comes this sudden desire to be king?"

"I am a king!" Loki shouted, fists clenched tightly in front of him.

"No, you are not!" Odin shouted back.

Loki fell back a step, looking oddly shocked as he stared at him. Odin took a calming breath and stepped closer still.

The shock quickly fell away and Loki took on a self-assured air. "I will be. Once I wield the Tesseract. It'll all be mine."

Odin sighed. "Who has put these ideas in your head?"

Loki gripped one of his hands in the other, his knuckles going white. "I have seen things you can't even imagine. I learned so much in my exile."

"Loki," Odin spoke quietly, "you were not exiled. Nor did Thor throw you into the Void. You let yourself fall. We all thought you lost to us. Do you not remember what happened?"

Loki's lips parted slightly as his expression went blank and his body still.

Odin took one more step and reached out slowly, as if confronting a spooked horse. His fingers brushed Loki's cheek gently, then moved to clasp the side of his neck. His mind drifted back to the sight of two small heads -- one dark, one fair -- bent over a book that took both of them to hold up. The whispered readings of the elder child from the pages describing the tales of horror and despair of those lost in the Void to the wide-eyed delight of the younger boy. Odin looming over them suddenly, snatching the book away, and bellowing promises of far greater horror than either could read from the pages of a book if they ever touched his things again. His brothers squealing in fright as they fled his rooms.

"I _can_ imagine the things you've seen. I am sorry."

Loki's face creased in a disturbing rictus of a smile as he laughed softly. He shook his head slightly, not enough to dislodge Odin's hand. "Don't be. I'm not. I was an ignorant fool of a child, believing all the lies you told me. I thought I knew so much. Now I understand I knew nothing. I finally see what I was meant for. And I will have the birthright I was promised."

Odin breathed out slowly through his nose, letting his hand drop away from Loki's neck as he backed up one step, then two. He'd been a fool. An arrogant fool.

He'd spent countless hours in the past days -- the past year -- wondering what was in Loki's mind and heart that could lead him to do such terrible things. And yet, Odin believed, in coming here himself, he would need only speak to Loki to convince him to give up his plans to conquer Midgard. That with words spoken from him, Loki would willingly return home with him. Somehow, it had not occurred to him his bright, clever son would be beyond reasoning.

Odin straightened his back and leveled a look at his son that once would have had Loki's own spine unconsciously stiffening in response. He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "Loki, the mortals will be left alone. Their world is not for us. The Tesseract, will you tell me where it is?"

Loki shrugged, unconcerned. "I've sent it off, I know not where."

"I see. Very well." Odin turned away and walked back to place where the two staffs stood side by side. He plucked the sceptre out of Gungnir's protective field, examining it closer. Already he could feel it reaching out and...something else.

Odin spun around to face Loki once more. "I do not know where you acquired this spear. Would you care to tell me?"

He received another shrug in response.

Odin gripped the sceptre in both hands, turning it slowly as he looked it over, taking care to avoid the shining stone at the end. "It's very strong. You must find it useful for your castings."

"Well, yes," Loki said easily, then he smirked. "Though I confess I liked Gungnir more."

"Yes, I imagine you did. Though Gungnir is not as manipulative as this."

"What?"

"Did you not know? This spear is reaching out, trying to influence those around it. It would have had an effect on the mortals had it been left amongst them for long. And it seems someone, or something, is trying even now to use this thing's power to reach through it. It feels to me like a summons." Odin watched Loki closely. "Would you know anything about that?"

Loki's face was a careful blank. His fingers twitched and pushed at his cuffs. "I know not what you mean. Perhaps your mind is addled, you should've slept longer."

"Hmm. Loki, where did you get this spear?"

Loki said nothing. His hands clenched and unclenched.

"Answer me, boy," Odin commanded.

"I made it," Loki said.

"No, you did not. Where did you get it?"

Loki laughed again, nervous and soft. "What does it matter?"

"It matter because I say it matters!" Odin raised his voice enough for it to echo around them. "For the last time, where did you get it?"

Loki stared at him wordlessly for a long moment before he offered him another of those terrible, empty smiles. His eyes widened and he shook his head. "I'm afraid I simply cannot recall."

Odin leveled him another look, one that would normally have grown men quaking in their boots. "Is that so?"

Loki looked back, unaffected. He wore a look of innocence that would not have been out of place on his child-self as he denied being the one who ate all the apple tarts meant for a feast, his face and hands still sticky with the evidence to the contrary.

Odin nodded sharply. "Very well."

Odin slammed the end of the sceptre into the ground and took up Gungnir in his other hand. He clenched his fingers around the sceptre's stone, as close as he could without actually touching it. Seidr began to flow from his hand, slowing wrapping around the glowing stone.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked.

Odin ignored him, keeping his focus on the stone. He began to chant under his breath, seidr flowing faster and stronger.

"What are you doing? Stop!"

He ignored the panic he heard in Loki's voice. His seidr wrapped tighter and tighter around the stone, the blue stone pulsed once, then twice, before it turned purple. Odin felt wetness on his face, beneath his nose. He ignored it. He continued to focus on the stone, bringing his seidr to bear down on it. The stone let out a blinding flash before darkening, the colour muting to deep, blackish-blue.

Odin removed his hand and brushed away the blood from his nose and upper lip as he smiled in satisfaction. His smiled faded when he took in Loki's face. Loki was staring at the sceptre in despair. Odin went to him at once and gripped his shoulder firmly. "I hope whomever holding the other end of this tether understands well my meaning."

Loki turned his eyes on him. Odin tried not to flinch at the mix of fear and relief he saw in them.

"What have you done?" Loki whispered.

Odin gave his shoulder a squeeze, trying to reassure him. "What I had to to protect my son. Come, it's time to go."

"Go where?"

"To retrieve the Tesseract and return home."

Loki looked chagrined, tilting his head forward a bit as if confiding a great secret. "I truly do not know where it is."

Odin smiled at him kindly. "That's all right. I do."


	8. Midgard IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin hasn't left Asgard in over a thousand years. When he finds out Loki is still alive and preparing to launch an attack on Midgard, he could send Thor to stop him.
> 
> Or Odin could go himself.

Heimdall watched.

He watched Odin and Loki on the mountain. Watched his king try to persuade the lost prince to give up his mad quest. Watched Loki refuse to turn away from the path he'd set upon.

Heimdall watched.

He watched as the ship of mortals came under attack. Watched as the mortals scrambled to fend off their attackers even as their ship began to fail and fall from the sky. Watched as the green beast tore through both enemies and allies unimpeded.

Heimdall watched.

He watched as the might of Odin took control of the sceptre's stone. Watched as his king forced a message back to its source. Watched as the cloaked creature that led the Chitauri received the king's word and went flying through the air to slam into a wall of rock before crumbling to the ground.

And for a moment the air around him seemed to shimmer and sway.

Heimdall strained to see.

  


* * * * *

  


_No._

_"If you fail..."_

_It was not supposed to be this way._

_"if the Tesseract is kept from us..."_

_The Tesseract was supposed to be his. What he could do with its power._

_"there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you!"_

_Midgard was supposed to be his. He earned it!_

_"You think you know pain?"_

_"No, Loki."_

_"He will make you long for something sweet as pain."_

_Odin was taking everything away from him. Again._

_It was not fair._

  


* * * * *

  


Erik Selvig blinked rapidly as he took in his surroundings. He was on the rooftop of a building. Highrise, by the looks of the surrounding buildings. Holy...was that the Chrysler Building? As his mind cleared, he swayed on his feet suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He'd been woken in the middle of the night when the Tesseract began misbehaving. No one knew what was going on or what to do. He was called in, but he couldn't shut it off. It had opened a portal on its own volition, right inside an underground base. And then...

Loki.

Selvig's exhaustion cleared in an instant as the events of the past days came rushing back. He remembered everything. The attack on the base. The bodies on the ground. The touch of the sceptre. How it became of vital importance to serve his new master. What the Tesseract had shown him. What he had built.

Selvig crept closer to the setup he'd built from nothing for the Tesseract to use. Loki told him he needed him to help. Told him to let the Tesseract guide him.

It did.

The Tesseract was all ready to open its new portal. It had everything it needed. Selvig reached a hand toward it only to be repelled by the energy field surrounding it. The energy field the Tesseract made to protect itself.

Selvig rushed to the rooftop's sole doorway. He stared at it. There was no door handle. He pushed on the door, pounded on it, pushed his fingertips into the cracks between the door and the frame and pulled. It didn't budge. He'd been brought up here in a helicopter, the commandos that escorted him had unloaded all the equipment and departed. They were going to meet up with Barton and find Loki. They were supposed to bring him here.

He let out a cry of frustration. He was trapped until Loki came. And Loki would come because Selvig did his job. He built the means for the Tesseract to open another portal.

He couldn't shut it off. It was too late. There was one way, he remembered. He'd included a safety shut-off. He did it for Loki. Just in case his master needed to shut it down, Selvig wanted him to have the means.

He need to get help. He needed to call...someone! Selvig paced about the rooftop, looking for a crowbar for the door, another way down, a stray cell phone, anything! He knew where he was now. This was Tony Stark's tower, surely the man mislaid cell phones the way normal people misplaced their keys. But he was Tony Stark so he would just make a new phone rather than search for the old one, right?

Selvig was contemplating his odds of survival if he jumped down on the nearest deck he could see from his vantage point when he became aware of a presence behind him. He was no longer alone. He closed his eyes as his heart sank. Loki. It had to be. It was really over. His planet was going to be invaded and Selvig was the one who had made it all possible.

Erik Selvig breathed deeply as he opened his eyes and straightened his back. No matter what, he would not let Loki touch him with the sceptre again. He turned around and was surprised to see Loki was not alone.

Selvig blinked. The elderly man in the red cape and gold eye patch sure didn't look like Barton.

It came to Selvig in a sudden, blinding flash of clarity that he was standing in the presence of a god-king.

The old man -- Odin, this was Odin! -- looked him over. "Are you one of the mortals Loki took as his thralls?" he asked.

"Uh, yes? I mean, I was."

"And are you enthralled still?"

"No. No, I'm not."

Odin looked like that was the answer he expected. "Good. Then I would ask you keep out of the way as I stop the Tesseract from making use of this device to open another portal."

Odin turned his back to Selvig to face Loki. "Can I trust you will behave yourself?"

Loki didn't answer him.

Odin shifted his weight to glance back at Selvig and just as quickly returned his attention to Loki. "Loki. If you make any attempt to escape or harm your former thrall..."

"I will not."

Odin gave him a considering look.

Loki looked back at him with wide, earnest eyes. "I cannot escape without jumping off the building. And I have no desire to do so, or harm the mortal. I give you my word."

Odin grunted. "Very well. I will take you at your word."

Selvig's mouth dropped open as he watched the man stalk across the rooftop towards the Tesseract, carrying two spears with him, one of which looked like Loki's sceptre. Loki trailed unhappily behind him. Selvig noticed he was wearing some kind of large, fancy handcuffs. He wondered what it must have taken to even get those on him.

 _Maybe he's less inclined to behave like a rampaging, homicidal lunatic with his dad here,_ he thought.

Selvig was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he was standing on Tony Stark's rooftop with Odin -- the Allfather of the gods -- when he saw something moving across the sky. And it was coming straight toward them.

  


* * * * *

  


Tony Stark weaved his way around the highrises as he made his way through the city. Battered as hell, he felt like he was moving at almost a crawl compared to how fast he wanted to be going. At least he was making better time than the people behind him, the quinjet still somewhere over the Atlantic. After what had happened, he was lucky he was airborne at all.

Loki's people apparently hadn't received the memo that his dad was picking him up from prison that day. The helicarrier had come under attack not long after the Shakespeare players with the wacky fashion sense had exited the stage. To say Fury had been a tad bit upset about the day's developments would have been like saying Tony had a little bit of money. Fury had gone from the Hulk cage straight to his and Banner's lab, demanding to know why it was taking so long to find the Tesseract. Banner responded by throwing Tony's discovery of the Phase Two project in his face. Fury's look of consternation had been priceless.

Having Captain America himself stroll in not long after to offer the findings from his own discovery, that SHIELD had been using the Tesseract to make advanced weapons, had only added to the hilarity. Usually Tony was the one stirring up the shit-storm, but this time he had been a simple bystander to the truly awesome sight of Captain America and Dr. Bruce 'sometimes-I'm-a-green-rage-monster' Banner tag-teaming Nick Fury with their duel moral outrage.

It had been glorious. At least until things started blowing up.

They'd all been distracted. When the attack came, they were caught with their pants down. From what Tony had heard, it was very much a replay of Loki's initial arrival in Fury's other super-secret-secure hiding place. Though this time around with more people intent on killing them all, less destructive explosions (thankfully), and possibly more screaming.

Loki's people had been somewhat less than thrilled to storm the ship and find their puppet master no longer in residence. Tony doubted getting bogged down in the corridors in a firefight with Loki's soldiers while their ship fell out of the sky had been on anyone's to-do list for the day. Much less Coulson's, who'd caught a bullet in the back during the melee, and whom Tony last saw being carried off to medical while demonstrating a truly impressive vocabulary of swear words to everyone within earshot.

Having Banner Hulking his way through the walls, pissed off that he'd been blown through a window -- though Tony couldn't say he blamed him on that point -- had been the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

And, seriously, how did an alien who'd been on planet Earth for less than two days assemble a small army of commandos that fast? Had he put an ad on Craigslist? 'Wanted: heavily armed serfs to aid god in world domination. Must be willing to kneel.' How did he even pay them? Tony saw what that guy was wearing. He did not see any wallet bulges in the guy's pants. Not that he'd been checking out Loki's pants. But there was a lot of leather and metal involved. It made it hard not to look.

While the helicarrier had ultimately not gone down with a splat, it had taken a lot of damage. And so had Tony's armour. He'd escaped being made into paste after kick-starting the turbine, thanks to Rogers, only for he and Cap to then join Romanoff in playing the world's worst game of tag with the Hulk. Between the three of them -- four after Barton suddenly popped up to play on their side -- they managed to keep the Hulk busy chasing them rather than ripping the ship apart piece by piece. Eventually, they led him into an area where some fighter jets could take over pissing him off. Again, Tony escaped the whole reduced to messy paste thing, but not before Hulk got hold of him and used Iron Man to make a nice, new doorway in one of the hanger bays.

The upside in the aftermath of his turn playing not-it -- his armour still worked. Mostly. The downside -- his armour had seen better days and this would be its last one. Tony sincerely hoped the Mark VII was ready to roll.

In the aftermath of the 'Rumble in the Helicarrier', Fury had helpfully cut through all the bitching and moaning by reminding them their hostile was in the wind, there was now an unknown entity in the mix, and they still didn't know the location of the Tesseract. Sure, Odin seemed like he wasn't down with the whole invade the Earth thing, but they'd already established Dr. Selvig had everything he needed for the Tesseract to open a portal with or without Loki.

Barton was the one who told them just where the portal set-up was located. He was the one who had loaded the Tesseract and Selvig into a truck and sent them off. Stark Tower had been all over the news when Loki made his entry into their world. The arc reactor had been pegged almost from the start as the perfect power source to be served up for Loki's needs.

Tony wasn't sure what to make of Barton. One minute he'd been trying his level best to crash the helicarrier and kill them all, and the next he was fighting alongside them.

When Fury asked, Barton had shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "I was doing what he wanted me to do and then I wasn't. My priorities were my own again."

"What brought it about?" Romanoff asked.

Barton shook his head. "I dunno what happened, Nat. One minute I was fighting for him. The next, my mind just cleared. I was free."

There had followed a brief debate as to what this could mean, the hope being Loki was gone or dead, before Fury broke things up. He told them to go check out Stark Tower and assess the situation. They went.

Now Tony was making his best speed possible to his own damn tower to make sure there were exactly no portals into outer space being opened anywhere in the vicinity. The recently defrosted Captain America with only a pair of assassins for back-up were somewhere behind him. Not really reassuring given that one of them had spent the last couple days as Loki's pet bitch-monkey. Probably Tony shouldn't have said that out loud just before they left the helicarrier. Barton seemed kinda bitter about the whole thing.

No one knew what happened to Dr. Banner after the Hulk had exited the aircraft. Tony was betting on the Big Guy being okay, regardless of where he ended up.

As Tony closed in on his building he was able to zero in on the portal making set-up on the rooftop. Along with the Norse Nutter with his crazy hair and his leather pants standing close by. And, oh look, there was the hard core Santa standing next to him.

Papa and Baby in the house. Tony's house. Without an invite first. Rude.

Tony didn't know much about opening space portals, but it looked to him that this one was about to do something what with the glowing and the spinning. Jarvis helpfully informed him he couldn't pull the plug on the thing.

He zipped closer to get a better look. Loki caught sight of him first. If looks that felled creatures from the sky were one of the god's powers, Tony would be in free fall right now.

"Hey, there! Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch. Say, you wouldn't happen to be trying to open an inter-dimensional portal on my rooftop, would you?"

Tony hovered nearby, eyeing up the portal setup and the one non-god looking guy standing there. Dr. Selvig, he presumed. "Shut it off, Selvig," he called out.

Selvig looked up at him helplessly. "I can't."

Huh. Tony took a closer look to be sure, but to his readings Selvig's eyes were coming across as distinctively non-glowy. How about that?

"Keep your distance metal man," Papa said. "This is not your concern."

"Um, excuse you. My city, my building, my concern."

Papa God ignored him, turning to the portal set-up and prodding the energy barrier surrounding it with his trident-looking spear. Seriously, what was with these guys and their spears?

Okay. Fine.

Tony moved in a bit closer and took aim at the set-up.

"No, wait, don't...!"

Tony fired.

Whatever Selvig was trying to tell him was lost in the resulting shock wave blast that dropped Tony out of the sky and knocked him ass-over-teakettle across the roof, ending up in a tangled heap against the parapet. As Tony straightened himself out, he realized he was blind. His UI showed nothing but static. He started working through his controls to get his suit back online.

Nothing.

He tried to contact Jarvis. No go. Tried to fire up one of his jets. Nada. He swallowed his burgeoning panic as control after control failed to respond. His armour was dead in the water.

Tony fumbled with the manual releases on his suit, pulling his head free of the helmet. Selvig, Papa, and Baby were all looking at him. At least Selvig looked concerned for his well being. Tony pulled himself to his feet.

"Save your efforts, mortal," Loki's dad said. "The portal will not be opened. I will not allow it."

Tony tried to process just what he was seeing as Papa God levelled both his and Loki's spears at the portal set-up.

"Stop! Please. The portal must be opened. You cannot do this!" Loki's expression read as a cat who took an unexpected tumble into a tub full of water.

"I can. And I will." With that, Papa stuck the ends of both spears inside the barrier surrounding the Tesseract.

Huh. Look at that. Didn't knock him flat on his ass. Unfair.

The barrier gave off a high-pitched whine. Papa didn't relent. The barrier whined louder. The Tesseract began to pulse.

Tony stumbled forward. He needed to get to the Mark VII. He need to call Cap and the assassins and tell them to haul ass. He needed Jarvis. It was maybe twenty feet to the rooftop access door.

Loki was standing between him and the door, his cuffed hands clenched in white fists intent on glaring a hole through his dad's skull. Tony kept moving.

In hindsight the smart thing would have been to keep quiet and tip-toe past the angry god. But Tony was Tony, and as he neared Loki, he couldn't help but open his mouth.

"Aw, buck up, Rudolph. Everyone has that experience when their dad shows up and wrecks their plans for a wild party. Hey, maybe you can try again in another few centuries. Make it on another planet though, okay?"

Tony knew it was a mistake as Loki's furious expression left his dad and turned on him. He tried to backpedal, but Loki had him around the throat and in the air faster than he could flinch. He could feel his muscles protesting under the god's grip as Loki hauled him in close, bringing them almost cheek-to-cheek.

"You will all fall before me," Loki growled.

"Loki! Release the mortal!" his dad shouted.

Loki smiled with all his teeth. It was not a reassuring look. Or, you know, sane.

"As you wish. Allfather."

And then Tony was flying. Sailing over the edge of the roof. Of his own tower. Plummeting downward. In his dead-weight suit.

Falling. Falling. And more falling. It wasn't even graceful, manly falling. It was more tumbling-through-the-air-about-to-crack-your-head-open-when-you-finally-hit-the-sidewalk falling. This was it. He was dead. Tony Stark -- survived the terrorists, taken out by a psycho Norse god with crazy hair and daddy issues. What a way to go.

Looked like he wasn't going to make it through the day without being made into paste after all.

_I'm sorry, Pepper._

He closed his eyes. He kinda wished now he'd left his helmet on. At least there would be no chance of seeing the pavement on which he was about to be a messy smear rushing up to meet him.

He waited.

And waited.

And why didn't he feel like he was falling anymore?

Tony opened his eyes.

Oh. That's why. No more falling.

Going back up the way he came was a more dizzying experience than going down. He was set down on the rooftop on his feet, but his knees still gave out and he fell backwards on his ass.

Papa God looked down at him.

"You are well?"

Tony opened his mouth, but couldn't make any words come out. He nodded instead.

"I apologize for my son's misbehaviour. It will not happen again."

More nodding.

Tony looked around. Turns out he wasn't the only one seated on his backside. Loki was not far away from him, surrounded by a golden, mostly transparent energy field. He was still wearing his wet cat expression.

Papa turned back to the Tesseract. Tony wasn't sure what he missed with the spears action, but he was pretty sure it hadn't been so easy to just reach in and pick up the Tesseract before. Or that those spears should be standing up by themselves. Odin popped the cube into a handy container he just happened to pull out of thin air. Neat trick. Then he grabbed one of the free-standing spears and levelled it at Selvig's setup.

It disintegrated.

Selvig gave a startled gasp at that from his spot near Tony's shoulder. And hey, he'd totally missed seeing Selvig cross the rooftop and crouching down beside him. He'd missed the supporting hand on his shoulder that was helping him stay upright, too.

_Thanks, Selvig._

Tony made a point of remembering to say it out loud later. Maybe even give him a fruit basket. Or a job, or something.

Spears and Tesseract in hand, Odin walked over to where Loki sat in his time-out pen. He let go of the spears -- and Tony really wanted to know how they stood up by themselves like that -- and waved a hand at Loki. The golden shimmer surrounding him dissipated.

"Come, Loki. It is time to go home."

Loki, for his part, looked like he was building himself up for an argument.

Papa sighed at that. He took hold of one of his son's arms as Loki slowly got to his feet. Odin again took hold of both spears in one hand. With his other hand he held out the Tesseract-holder-thing, presumably for Loki to take hold of the other end. Loki looked at it, then at his father. They stared at each other, unmoving, for what felt like days, but was probably only a minute or two.

Odin raised his eyebrows. "We are leaving. I will not tell you again."

Loki took hold of his end without protest.

There was a bright flash and suddenly Tony's rooftop held exactly zero Norse gods.

Tony looked around. Everything looked normal. Just an ordinary day at Stark Tower. He caught Selvig's eye.

"What the actual fuck?" Tony said.

Selvig gave him a strange look. "You're asking me?"

The sound of an incoming jet engine heralded the arrival of Tony's back-up.

  
**End of Part 2.**


	9. The Return I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up where I left off. My apologies for the long hiatus.

**Part 3 - The Return**

 

Loki's fate was decided before he had a name. Odin would come to wonder in later years if this was how the Norns intended it.

Odin carried the now Aesir infant found within the Jotun temple back to his war camp. Tired down to his bones, he forgoed a spell of invisibility in favour of simply wrapping his cloak around the shivering baby before carrying him past his guards and into his expansive tent. Odin laid the baby gently down on his bed, tucking his cloak more securely around him. He set aside his helm and did his best to assemble a make-shift cradle out of a fur blanket to keep the child warm and in place. He stepped outside just long enough to give brief instructions to one of the guards posted at the entrance before retreating back within, making sure the entryway was well sealed to keep out the wind and cold. Well, as much as was possible on Jotunheim.

Odin looked down at the baby who was watching him curiously. Odin felt inexplicably weary with the urge to sink down onto the bed next to the child and sleep for a century. What was he to do with the child? The war was over. Laufey defeated. The Casket of Ancient Winters held within Odin's own tent, sitting on a nearby trunk. He'd set it down on the first clear surface he found before venturing back out into the dark and cold to walk the grounds of the final battle, empty save for the warriors tasked with the removal of their dead.

Odin had walked the lines of fallen warriors, arranged in a way to make it easier for the Bifrost to carry them home in groups. He looked down at the faces of each one. Gone forth to Valhalla all of them, yet the loss would sit heavy on all those who remained for some time. Odin lingered by the still form of one, laid out so that he would be among the first who returned to Asgard. The low murmuring of the living warriors around him went silent in respect.

All that remained was to end the few skirmishes still being fought, gather his warriors, and return to Asgard to begin the final goodbyes to their dead. Odin was skirting around the very edge of the field to avoid having to speak to anyone on the way back to camp, when he had heard a sound off in the distance.

It sounded too much like the cries of a child for him to ignore and he set off to investigate. He moved slow and cautious, leery of any Jotun warriors laying in wait for him. All that awaited him inside of the darkened ruins was a baby. Days old at the most and carelessly swaddled in a scrap of cloth, the child screamed its unhappiness into the empty space around him.

Odin had the sobbing child in his hands before he realized it. He meant only to try and comfort him when the baby suddenly shifted his form. From Jotun to Aesir in the blink of Odin's remaining eye. He wondered if this was a reaction to his own seidr. It wouldn't have been the first time someone - or something - with magic of their own shifted unintentionally in the presence of the Allfather. But never in someone so young. He felt the strands of magic flowing through the infant, very faint, but present. As far as he knew, magic in its own right was not a common occurrence on Jotunheim. Odin wondered if that was how the infant's gift had been overlooked. But who had left this child in the temple? Laufey? He should have been too caught up in the fighting and now captured, he would remain under guard until Odin signaled Asgard's withdrawal. Farbauti? Not seen once in the course of the war.

Of course, Laufey was not without enemies amongst his own people.

The baby gurgled and brought his focus back to the small bundle currently sharing his company. When he saw he had Odin's attention, the baby freed one arm from the nest of fur and waved it at him.

 _Poor child._ Odin knelt by the infant to gently tuck his tiny arm back into the warmth. _And what will become of you, little one? Cast off by your own?_

In shifting from Jotun to Aesir, the baby remained the same size. As an Aesir infant, he looked a healthy size. For a Jotun, he was far too small. There was little question in Odin's mind the baby had been abandoned. Though he did not know who would have left the child behind in the temple, Odin suspected it very much had to do with the baby's size. Odin couldn't fathom it. Even in the midst of war, to discard your children was unimaginable.

A sharp blast of wind blew through the tent and was quickly cut off.

"Odin?"

Odin rose at the sound of his brother's voice. For a moment he stood still to take in the sight of his younger brother, alive and hale. He hadn't seen him in days. Vili's squadron had broken off from the main fighting to cut off a line of access into the region to prevent re-enforcements from getting through. But he was here now. And he was alive.

Odin crossed the ground in two strides to engulf him in a fierce hug. Vili returned it briefly, before he pulled back to take a good look at him.

"Norns, Odin! Your eye!"

As if in response to Vili's shock, the remains of Odin's eye began to throb in pain. He'd been ignoring it for many hours, the injury coming at the height of the final battle.  

"It seems I was not meant to escape this war unscathed. Peace, Brother. It's only an eye. As it happens, I have another."

In truth, he was a little surprised he managed to survive past the loss of his eye. Losing his perception slowed his responses. The enemy around him that took note of it converged on him all at once. His warriors had closed ranks around him, fighting - and dying - fiercely to defend their wounded king even as that king cast a desperate working to aid his remaining sight well enough to compensate for the loss.

It worked. He lived.

"Sit."

Vili's grip on his shoulder brooked no argument as Odin was guided to a nearby chair. He collapsed in it, grateful he was not expected to move further. He watched passively as Vili made a circuit of the tent, gathering items and carrying them back over to his brother. When Vili approached the trunk that held the Casket he hesitated only briefly before snatching up the Casket and setting it on the ground. He opened and rooting about in the trunk, coming up with a handful of supplies that he dumped on the table next to Odin also. He sorted through and laid out everything he'd gathered to his satisfaction before returning his focus to his brother. Odin sat motionless during Vili's careful inspection of his face.

Vili sighed. "There's nothing left of your eye to heal."

"So I see."

"Not funny."

"A little bit funny."

"If you say so." Vili settled for dissolving a healing stone in a shallow bowl of water and dunking in a clean, thick cloth to soak. Odin reached over to heat the water with a small casting, tired of the incessant cold. Vili waited until steam rose from the bowl before retrieving the cloth, wringing out the excess water, and began cleaning Odin's wound.

"Dare I ask where the baby came from?" Vili didn't look away from his task at hand.

Odin told him as he endured Vili's rough ministrations.

Vili re-soaked his cloth in the water. Rung it out again. Returning to wiping the blood and gore from his brother's face.

"You wander into a Jotun temple and immediately find an infant, the son of their king no less. Truly, I know not how you manage to do these things."

"You make it sound as though I find abandoned babies on battlegrounds everywhere I go."

"It would not surprise me so much if you did."

Odin jerked out of reach when Vili went over a particularly painful spot. Vili cupped the back of his head more firmly to hold him in place.

"Hold still. I'm almost finished." Vili continued the cleaning. Odin grit his teeth and bore it.

"The child - what will you do with him?" Vili asked.

"Take him back to Asgard, I think. Look at the size of him. I cannot leave him here. He would not stand a chance."

"Likely not. Is he glamoured?"

"No. He shape-changed in my hands."

Vili paused. "Won't he change back?"

"I think not. He is as much Aesir now as you and I and will remain so, unless I hand him back over to the Jotuns or set him down on top of the Casket. From what I know of shape-changers, he should feel no different as any of other Aesir child as he grows. His form will be as natural to him as the breaths he takes. He may take other forms of his own choosing as he comes into his magic, he may not. Some shape-changers never change again once they've found the form that suits them best."

Vili considered that. "Will you? Give him back?"

Odin could not clear away the sight of the infant wailing, alone and suffering, cast out on a frozen rock from his mind's eye. "No. No, I will not."

Vili hummed low in his throat. "Take the change as a blessing then, if you intend to take him back to Asgard. I cannot imagine any Jotun, even a very small one, will ever be welcome there for a long time to come."  

Odin could not deny the truth of his words. "No, likely not."

Vili continued to carefully wipe away the gore on Odin's face, trying to cover as much of the wound as he could with the healing infused water. They were silent as he worked, the quiet only punctuated by the occasional baby noise as the infant shifted and gurgled trying to see around him.

Vili inspected Odin's eye one last time, before dropping his cloth in bowl. "That is all I can do. The healers in Asgard will have to tend to the rest."

Odin's smile was mirthless as he rose and patted the space on Vili's arm not covered in armour. "Nothing to be done, save find a way to cover the space where once I had a second eye."

Odin crossed over to the baby and settled himself down next to him, careful not to jostle him. The baby managed to free his arm again and waved it at Odin. Odin pressed a finger against the little one's palm. The baby wrapped his fingers around it immediately. With his other hand, Odin used his thumb to stroke the baby's cheek. The baby looked up at him and cooed.

Such trust from this little one. Odin didn't think he'd done anything to merit it.

"Are we ready to return?" he asked Vili.

"Soon," Vili said, coming over to stand over them. "The captains are still accounting for their warriors. Once they have determined all who still live they will begin taking down the camp. We should be home by nightfall. Our nightfall, that is. Do you know Bragi's son, Dag?"

Odin frowned at the abrupt change of topic. "I do not think I do. Why?"

"I understand he and his wife are hoping for a child. Perhaps they will take him."

"Ah. Yes. I suppose he will need a home."

Odin dislodged his finger from the baby's grasp prompting an immediate yowl of protest. Odin responded by scooping the child up and setting him against his chest, rubbing his back. He remembered vividly when Thor was this size. Odin held him often late in the night before he retired, the two of them sitting next to a hearth while Odin hummed and listened to his son breathe. He didn't know he was capable of feeling so content as he did holding his child. It had been years since Thor was small enough to hold so. Even through the pain of his damaged eye, he could feel that contentedness returning to him. The infant yawned and snuggled into him, closing his eyes.

"Or Ullr. He and his wife have a daughter. A little younger than Thor, I think. They've fostered other children in their house. Perhaps they would welcome another."

"Should the son of a king not be raised as such?" Odin asked.

Vili pulled up short. "What?"

"He needs a home. He needs a family. That is true. But I cannot deny this boy is the son of the Jotun king. He should be treated as such."

Vili blinked in confusion. "Do you mean to take him as a hostage of war? I thought you just said he is Aesir now. What would be the point?"

"No, no. That is not what I mean."

"Then what are you saying?"

"This child was born to a king. He is a prince of his realm. He should be raised a prince."

"Odin. No." Vili's retort was sharp.

Despite the pain of it, Odin raised his brows in response. "I beg your pardon."

"You mean to claim him as yours?"

"Why should I not?"

"It's not wise. If you wish to raise him, then do so and say..." Vili fell silent, clearly considering his next words. Odin said nothing, leaving his brother to his thoughts.

"Say he is Ve's son," Vili finished at last. "No will question it. No one will protest against you taking your brother's son into your house."

Odin's breath faltered at the mention of their younger brother's name. It was the first time it had been spoken aloud in his presence since Ve fell days earlier on the battlefield.

Losing their younger brother had been a horrible shock to them both. Even through the haze of battle in a field with a thousand warriors fighting around him, Odin could still hear Vili screaming Ve's name. He fought his way to his brothers only to find Ve staring sightlessly up at the starless sky, held tightly in Vili's arms as their fellow warriors kept the giants at bay. Odin gave an incoherent cry at the sight and leveled Gungnir at every Jotun he could see, killing enough to give them a moment's respite. He'd sunk to his knees on the other side of his youngest brother and pressed his forehead to Vili's over Ve's motionless form. They wept together far too briefly before Odin was pulling Ve from Vili's arms to lay him down on the frozen ground. He'd slapped at Vili's cheeks several times before Vili's eyes pulled away from their brother to focus on him long enough for Odin to order him away to cut off an enemy line. Vili dragged himself to his feet and obeyed his king. War had no time to give to the dead.

Odin couldn't fault the wisdom of Vili's advice now. Ve had been handsome and young, charming with an easy smile at the ready for all. But most especially for women. It would take little effort to concoct a tale of one of Ve's conquests birthing a child. They could say the child's mother died. Or that she simply did not want to raise the bastard son of a dead, bastard prince.

It would so easy.

But as Odin looked down at the infant's peacefully sleeping face, he knew in his heart it was not the path he would follow.

 

*** * * * ***

 

The Tesseract returned them to the Great Hall, standing in the very spot from which Odin originally intended to send Thor to Midgard. Loki immediately let go of his side of the Tesseract container. He looked about him briefly and, upon seeing where they were, huffed an unamused laugh.

"What? No assembled masses to witness my inglorious return? At the very least, I would have expected Thor and his oh-so-faithful companions to be lined up so they may look down their noses with disapproval at me."

Odin's mouth pressed into a tight line.

Loki grinned at that. "No? Well, I'm sure it is soon to come. At least I have your disapproval to tide me over in the meantime."

"Loki..." Odin's voice trailed off. It had been a long day. The energy he'd felt when he set out for Midgard had drained away. It was late in the night in Asgard. The realm around them was quiet and still.  

Odin set down Loki's sceptre close to the throne dais. The Great Hall was deserted and would remain so. The sceptre could wait. He was in no mood to deal with it at the moment.

Odin took a step to the side and nearly stumbled. Out of the corner of his good eye, he saw Loki take a quick step toward him before stopping. Odin caught himself on Gungnir and took a moment to right himself. The events of the day had left him even more tired than he thought.

"It has been a trying day for us both, I think. We can discuss what has occurred after we're both refereshed. Perhaps it best to retire for the night."

Loki pulled a face as he considered Odin's words. "Why, yes. Perhaps it would." He straightened his spine as he held out his still shackled hands, eyebrows knitting together in mock concern. "Will the guards be arriving soon to lead me to my cell? Or will you be seeing fit to lock me in the dungeons yourself?"

The thump of Gungnir upon the ground echoed through the empty chamber even as Loki's shackles dissolved to nothing. Loki was quick to cover his momentary shock with indifference.

"Come with me. Speak to no one. Make no attempt to sneak away under my own nose. I assure you, you will fail."

"I..."

"Loki, I am in no mood!" Odin's tone was sharper than he intended. "Norns help us both if you defy me one more time this day!"

Loki mouth snapped shut. Even with his lips pressed together, he still managed to look defiant. Yet when Odin turned away to lead them out of the Great Hall, Loki followed close on his heels.

Odin stopped to speak briefly to one guard, ensuring the Great Hall would remain empty until further notice. He led the way through the halls of the palace, Gungnir gripped in one hand, the Tesseract case in the other. Loki shadowed his movements. Odin chose a direct route, grateful for the late hour as the corridors were mostly empty save for guards whom they both ignored. Up and up through the levels of the palace they went with only their footsteps breaking up the quiet.

When they reached the main level of the family quarters, Loki broke the silence with soft, bitter laughter. "You don't mean to return me to my own rooms? Truly, Allfather, perhaps your mind _has_ addled. You should see Eir about that."

Odin said nothing as he continued upward, passing by the levels his family lived on to the floors above. Loki resumed his own silence as he followed Odin down a long hall several levels above the one where he grew up. The hall sat empty except for portraits of long-dead ancestors projected on the walls between one set of closed doors after another. Odin came to a halt close to the end of the hall in front of a set of massive, intricately carved doors. He tapped at them once with the end of Gungnir and the doors groaned open.

Loki looked around in confusion. "Why here? This is one of floors that served as the family residence when Bor was king. You used to live up here."

Odin nodded. "Yes, the rooms I grew up in were at the other end of this hall and one level up."

"Who lived in there?" Loki indicated the room beyond the open doors with his chin.

"You will live here. For the time being."

"That's not what I asked."

"No, it is not."

They stood facing each other down for several long moments, standing less than two feet apart. Odin never felt further away from his son. Odin looked into the darkened rooms then back at Loki, his meaning clear. Loki tilted his chin up as he spun on his heel and marched through the doorway. The main room lit at the presence of someone within. Odin stood just outside the doors, watching as Loki prowled about already seeking answers.

"These rooms have always been maintained," Odin told him. "You should be comfortable enough. Servants will not be permitted entry unless your mother or I are present. You'll find a small alcove near the eating area where you can deposit things to be taken away and cleaned, your clothes, linens, dishes. Fresh ones will soon appear thereafter. Food and drink will arrive in the same place. I'll send word down to kitchens to have some food sent up. You must be hungry. Eat. Take some rest. Tomorrow...well, perhaps things will seem clearer. For us all."

Loki had stopped his explorations to stare at Odin as though Odin had been the one to take leave of his senses. "And what makes you believe I'll still be here?"

Odin looked back at him with sorrow squeezing at his heart. He blinked away the sudden moisture in his eye and took in a shaky breath. "You will be. I am sorry, my son."

Loki eyes widened in panic as he sensed a trap about to be sprung.

Odin took one step back, speaking an incantation made up of just a handful of words. With the last word spoken, the hidden runes etched into every surface of the rooms flared to life. They filled the room with golden light before dimming and becoming invisible once more.

Loki cried out in dismay.

The doors swung closed and sealed themselves shut, cutting off the sounds of Loki's bewilderment. As well as the sight of him crumpling to his knees.

Odin stared at the sealed doors before him. "Forgive me," he whispered to the enchanted wood.

The doors stayed silent.

 

*** * * * ***

 

"Frigga."

At the sound of his voice, she looked away from the book held in her lap and rose to her feet.  She dropped the book on the chair and hurried across their sitting room to stand before Odin. Her brows pulled together, she worried at the rings on one hand as she looked at him.

"Loki?"

"He's home. He's safe."

Frigga breathed out slow and unsteady as she closed her eyes. Her shoulders relaxing so suddenly Odin realized he hadn't noticed the tension in them previously. He hesitated before reaching out his hand to cup the back of her neck, gently rubbing his fingers in small circles into her skin. She sighed and wrapped one hand around his arm and pressing her cheek against his arm.

"Where is he?" Frigga asked against his skin, her eyes still closed.

When he didn't answer at once, she opened her eyes and searched his face for an answer. After a moment she stepped away, outside his reach. Odin let his arm fall back down to his side.

"Where is our son?"

Odin turned away on the pretense of setting Gungnir and the Tesseract down. "He tried to lead an attack on another realm," he explained to the rug beneath the Tesseract. "He would not listen when I tried to reason with him. He said things that made little sense. What choice did I have?"

Frigga was in front of him at once, forcing him up to look at her. "Odin. Where is Loki?"

Odin shook his head. "I had not the heart to put him in the dungeon. But his magic is strong. More than either of us realized, you know this. I would see him safe. He is where he cannot do any harm."

Frigga's eyes grew wide, her brows rising high as she stared at him. "You wouldn't..."

"I put him in my mother's rooms."

Frigga slapped him.

"Frigga..."

She slapped him again.

"You...you...!" Her teeth clenched, her breathing coming fast and loud as her ire rose.  She looked undecided as to whether to slap him a third time.

Odin made the choice for her and moved out of reach. Weariness seeped through his skin and into his bones with a suddenness that surprised him. He had never before felt his age so keenly.

"What would you have me do?" Odin demanded of her, anger still finding its way into his voice despite his fatigue. "Take him to his own rooms? Tuck him into his bed and kiss him goodnight? Hope he would still be there come morn? Or would you prefer I locked our son down in the dungeon for all to know and mock? What else could I have done? Tell me, I beg you. Please, tell me! What am I to do with him?"

Frigga made a sound of rage and stalked out of the room in a swirl of silks. The door slammed behind her with such force the walls shuddered with the force of her magic and displeasure.

It was the second time this night Odin stared at a set of closed doors. His anger drained away and he moved stiffly across the room to sink into the nearest chair. The seat gave him a clear view of the city outside. The first hints of daylight were already breaking through the night sky. Odin closed his eye and waited for the arrival of the new day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter almost plays out as a game of count the family secrets! How many did you spot?


	10. The Return II

_Stupid fool!_

Loki snarled through clenched teeth, huddled on the floor after his first attempt to push himself back to his feet failed.

_Really, you should have expected something like this._

_Shut up!_

His second attempt fared better as he levered himself more or less upright. Heart pounding in his ears, his own harsh breathing was deafening in the quiet room. Loki tried to push back against the oppressive weight of the magic bearing down on him.

_No. No, please._

Loki couldn't feel his magic. But there was magic hanging in the air all around him, pressing in on him. So thick he could almost reach out and touch it. If his magic was gone, Loki reasoned, he wouldn't be able to feel it around him. He would be blind to it. So it had to still be there, it had to be.

But he couldn't feel his magic.

_You failed, and now they've hobbled you. Well done, Liesmith._

Loki tried a casting, just a small one. A light in his hand, hardly fit to even be called a casting. A  cantrip really. Something any child could do.

Nothing.

He tried again. Breathed deeply to calm himself. It was simple. Just focus. Start from the beginning.

_Focus, Loki. Be patient, it will come._

Nothing happened.

He couldn't breathe. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. He needed his magic. They couldn't take it from him. It was his. _It was his!_

Loki tried to project an image across the room. Nothing appeared. A simple spell to change the colour of the rug underfoot. The rug remained the same. There had to be something, something!

He hesitated before withdrawing one of his daggers.

_Didn't even bother to take your knives away, did he? That's what Odin thinks of you. Weak. Pathetic._

_Shut. Up._

Blood magic. Blood magic would work. It had power little could stand against.

Loki pressed the dagger to his palm. A quick cut, get the blood flowing, and then he could begin to cast. Just press the dagger down. Press it down. Press it hard enough to cut the skin.

_What...?_

He couldn't do it. Not for lack of will. He simply could not cut himself. He could move the dagger to his hand, hold it firm against the skin. Move it away and then back again. But he could not cut. Couldn't even make the smallest scratch with the sharp edge.

Something was stopping him.

_No, no, NO!_

"NO!"

Loki screamed as he hurled the useless weapon across the room.

He screamed as he kicked a low table, sending it smashing against a wall.

Screamed as he picked up a chair and hurled it against the doors leading out of the room.

Still screamed as he ran at the doors and tried to force them open.

"How dare you! How dare you do this! I hate you! Do you hear me, old man? I hate you! I hate all of you! Let me out! LET ME OUT!"

  


*** * * * ***

  


None dared stand in the queen's path.

There were few souls about at such a late hour. Those who saw Frigga as she stormed through the halls of the palace and out into the city were quick to hasten out of her way. None greeted her, but all bent their necks as she passed. She acknowledged no one.

Frigga spared a thought to diverting her path to the stables and to get a horse, but dismissed it almost at once. No, she preferred to walk to her destination. Her ill temper put speed in her steps. Soon she reached the Bifrost, crossing its remaining length to the lone figure standing post at its shattered end.

Heimdall turned away from the stars to face her on her approach. Frigga did not miss the way his stance became more guarded as she drew closer. Or the way his hands tightened ever so slightly around the hilt of his sword.

_Good. Remind them all that Odin is not the only one with power in Asgard._

Heimdall bowed his head as she came to stand before him. "My queen."

"Heimdall. I was not certain I would find you at your post given the hour."

"The king directed me to watch over Loki, Midgard, and the Chitauri when it was discovered your son still lived. The king has not yet given me leave."

"And do you? Still watch over Loki?"

"I do, my queen. What would you ask of me?" he asked, his voice kind.

In that moment Frigga felt her anger draining away, leaving heartache in its place. When she had left Odin her intention was to go straight to Loki, unwilling to be apart from him one moment longer. She made it halfway to his new rooms before her steps faltered. It made her angry all over again, this time with herself. But Frigga knew it would be unwise to enter those rooms unaware. Feeling the coward and allowing her discontent guide her, she had made for the Bifrost instead.

"How is he?"

Heimdall's gaze drifted away from her as he considered the palace. "Angry."

Frigga closed her eyes, taking a slow breath to gather her strength. Loki needed her. She would not fail him. Not now.

_Not again._

Frigga moved to stand alongside Heimdall, following his sight as though she could see her loved ones within as easily as he could. "What else?"

"The prince does not understand the power that now surrounds him. He begins to, even as he searches for a means to escape it."

"He won't be able to get out," Frigga's voice was soft.

Heimdall looked away from her son to settle his unwavering gaze on her. She returned his regard unflinching. "Until the moment Odin spoke the words that brought forth that dormant power, I was unaware it existed. More than a thousand years I have served as Asgard's watchman and I have never seen such a thing."

Frigga's smile was full of regret. "More than a thousand years I have served as its queen and nor have I."

Heimdall didn't look away from her face.  "Yet you knew it was there. Waiting."

"Yes. I did."

She held Heimdall's gaze a few moments longer before he turned his eyes back to the palace before them.

"Did Loki ever suspect what lay overhead all these many years?"

"No," Frigga was certain. "He never knew. It was always just another unused room to him."

"That," Heimdall observed, "will likely make him angrier."

"I know."

  


*** * * * ***

  


Once she at last stood before the doors that separated her from Loki, Frigga did not hesitate. The doors swung open at her command and she stepped inside.

The room was in shambles.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes swept the room taking in the destruction and searching for its cause. There. On the far side of the room Loki lay curled on a low chaise - the only piece of furniture still upright and intact - his back to her.

Frigga breathed easy again.

Magic hung heavy in the air, she could feel it everywhere around her. It felt...foreign. Strange and thick, like walking through dense fog. Frigga could feel it against her skin even as it ignored her.  She knew when Odin invoked the working, it would have been directed at the room's sole occupant. The spell would be indifferent to any other magic user who entered the room, as long as they made no attempt to use their power to help free - or bring harm to - its charge.

It was, after all, a working originally created to hold fast a powerful user of magic. As well as keep her safe.

Frigga worried at how well that worked out for her predecessor.

_But Loki is not Bestla. This is not the same._

Frigga picked her way through the wreckage littering the floor of the airy room, making her way to the chaise that cradled her son. Pushing aside broken remnants of pottery with her shoe, Frigga cleared a space to set down the basket she carried. Standing near Loki's feet, Frigga drank her fill of the sight of her child. Still wearing his boots and clothing, including light armour, Loki looked as if he simply folded into the chaise as his strength failed him and fell into a restless sleep. His forever tidy dark hair was a tangled mess. His face, always lean and fair, now thin with a sickly pallor. Frigga's heart clenched at the sight even as her eyes filled with tears. Loki was alive. Whatever else that followed, they would endure together. For now her child was home.

Loki was home.

She watched as he twitched in sleep, his body tensing every so often as if he slept on a battlefield surrounded by enemies rather than his home. Upon seeing the state of the room, Frigga had thought to summon servants to clean up after she spent some time with her son. She dismissed that now. Though Loki had grown with servants attending their tasks unobtrusively around him, Frigga was hesitant to inflict them on him at present. Sleeping with his guard up, she doubted he would welcome anyone moving around him. The room would have to be attended to, the ruined furnishings replaced, but for the time being it would wait.

Loki gasped and jerked, murmuring something in his sleep Frigga couldn't understand. She could stand it no longer. Moving quietly so not to disturb him, she sat on the edge of the chaise and reached for him. His hand felt cold where she curled her fingers around it. Loki's fingers tightened around hers in reflex before slackening. Close enough to better observe, Frigga studied the gashes and tarnish apparent on his vambraces, lined up as Loki slept with his arms wrapped around himself. Touching his pauldron lightly, she found it too covered in scratches. Asgardian armour was the strongest of any realm, infused with magic and made to withstand long battles. Both of Frigga's sons had armour that was well used to their share of fighting. But then they has always come home after, their hurts attended to and battered armour repaired.

Frigga traced a deep cut that curved high up around one vambrace, a blow that likely would have severed Loki's arm had it not been protected.

_Oh my boy, where have you been? What has happened to you?_

Frigga lifted her hand to his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone as she had done countless times since she first held him in her arms as an infant. His cheeks felt too warm. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. The skin there cool, yet clammy. Frigga frowned, wondering if he'd picked up an illness during his time among the mortals. Or from where he was before.

_He will have to see Eir._

Frigga did not know how the room may react to the presence of a healer. Would it view attempts to heal and strengthen as lending aid to escape? Or an exam that brought discomfort as an attack on its ward? She would speak to Odin first on the matter. Regardless, either they would bring Eir to Loki or else remove him from the room to bring him to Eir.

_If my darling husband disagrees, I will explain to him the error of his thinking. As often and loudly as need be._

Loki twitched again, pulling away from her touch. Her hand followed him, sweeping across his forehead and brushing back stray, sticky locks of hair stuck to his skin. After a moment's thought, she added seidr to her touch. As soon as her own power came to bear, Frigga felt the room prodding at her. She paused, waiting for it to determine she was not trying to bring harm or help her son escape. The magic around her pulled back once satisfied she meant not to act against it. Frigga focused and used her touch to nudge Loki along to a deeper, more restful sleep. Within moments he sighed, the tension in his body easing away as he relaxed into the chaise.

Frigga lost track of how long she sat next to Loki, watching him sleep. His face now so peaceful in rest she couldn't bring herself to look away. She sat beside him content while she stroked his hair and hummed absently. If her cheeks felt damp after a time, she made no motion to wipe them dry.

When she finally pulled herself from Loki's side, she retrieved her basket. After leaving Heimdall, Frigga made her way to Loki's rooms to gather a few things to bring to him. She hoped they would bring him some measure of familiar comfort in these new - temporary - quarters. She had packed clothing and soft shoes, a few books among other things. Lying on top of the basket was a woven blanket Frigga had made for him many years past. It was a little worn, but still warm and soft, its multitude of colours still vibrant and rich. For years its usual place was thrown over the back of Loki's favourite reading chair. Always neatly folded when not in use and easily within reach to throw over his lap and legs whenever there was a chill in the air.

After Loki's fall, Frigga and Thor picked absently though his things to choose what to send forth in his boat. Thor had picked the blanket off the back of the chair and added it to the pile they were accumulating. Frigga snatched it up at once, stuffing it in the ottoman at the foot of Loki's chair while ignoring the flash of hurt on Thor's face. Thor had said nothing, looking away from her and shifting his attention to the table next to the chair.  His hand hovered over the pile of books stacked there for a moment before he picked up a trinket sitting next to them, adding it the pile instead. They had finished their task together in silence.

Every day since when Frigga had the courage to visit Loki's rooms, she retrieved the blanket out from its hiding place. Spreading it out over her lap, she had smoothed creases, repaired small holes and pulls. Mostly she just sat, running her hands over the blanket. Sometimes it brought her comfort. Many times it did not. She still did it anyway. And each day she folded it up carefully to tuck back inside the ottoman before leaving.

Frigga shook the blanket out now, leaning forward to cover Loki with it the best she could. It was never big enough to cover him entirely, but given the way he lay curled on his side it draped him from ankle to shoulders well enough. Frigga watched to ensure he slept still. Once assured she hadn't disturbed him, she left Loki to his rest.

Never before had she stepped foot in these rooms. All too aware of its history, Frigga had no desire to look within their walls. She took the time to explore them now, stepping over broken furniture and smashed objects. Looking into the smaller rooms branching off the main one, she found them untouched by Loki's rage. Every room was luxurious, filled with hand-crafted furnishings and artwork from no less than three realms. Indeed these were living quarters fit for a queen.

_And now a prince._

Frigga sighed, worried about what lay ahead. The coming days would not be easy.

 _But Loki is alive,_ she reminded herself. _That is all that matters._

Choosing an area close to the doorway leading out into the hall, Frigga began to clean up the mess.

  


*** * * * ***

  


Odin awoke from a light sleep with the sun barely broken through the sky. Feeling as though he had not slept at all he rose slow and stiff. Odin groaned as he found his feet, his muscles protesting from having slept upright in a chair however briefly.

_Sleeping in chairs would not be considered wise by any measure. Especially for one who is not getting any younger._

Odin grimaced. Vili wasn't even present and yet could still echo his annoying observations of Odin's foolishness.

He walked slowly, working out the soreness. Making a circuit through the many rooms of his living quarters, he found himself the lone occupant. Frigga was nowhere to be seen. Odin hobbled into the bathing room. A long hot soak would likely do him a measure of good and he almost groaned at the thought, but did not indulge. Instead he washed the grime of Midgard away quickly and changed into fresh clothing and armour. There was so much to do he wasn't sure where to start.

Loki.

No doubt Frigga was with him. It did not take any measure of wisdom to know this. Angry with her husband though she may be, Odin knew she would display none of it to Loki. If anyone could get him to speak openly, it would be his mother. She has always understood their youngest son so much better than he. Odin envied her that. For now he would leave them be.

The king was returned to Asgard. He had brought his lost son home and prevented an invasion of Midgard. Not a poor showing for a day's work. The council would have to be briefed. They would undoubtedly have questions. He would speak to Thor first. His questions, Odin would try his best to answer. The council's on the other hand? Well...

_They will all want to know why Loki is sequestered. Even if they are not told, it will soon become apparent when they never see him._

The matter would require careful handling. The rooms where Loki was being held were still considered part of royal family's private residences even though they had not been in use since before Odin was king. Only a small pool of approved guards, servants, close friends, and family were permitted access to the private residences. Anyone else had to put in a request and wait for approval before being granted entry.

 _"Loki's had a trying experience,"_ Odin would tell the council. _No, no, say "a traumatic experience". Without details. The result of his fall. Remind them he fell into the Void. That by itself should make some of the old bastards shudder in horror. "Rest assured, Loki will recover. But in the meantime, he requires rest. Time to re-adjust. He is not to be disturbed."_

Eir. Loki should see Eir. Odin sighed. He should have brought him to the healing rooms as soon as they returned. Odin had been tired and disturbed by what he was leading his son to. Taking a detour first had not occurred to him.

Nothing to do about it now. Eir would have to go to Loki. Odin remembered healers visiting his mother on occasion. Knew the casting allowed for such things. Odin would be present to be sure everything went smoothly. Whatever Eir needed, they would arrange for her to have. As long as Loki remained within the room's walls.

_Now that he knows what's in there, if we take him out we'll never get him back in._

_But will it be able to hold him for long?_

The thought gave Odin great pause. It was a worry that had been with him every moment since he decided on this course of action. The casting itself was unique. Created for sole purpose of holding fast Asgard's powerful, foreign-born queen. It had been put together in haste. Less than a season in the making, if that. Dozens of magic users gathered from throughout Asgard, though Odin had always suspected the Vanir played some part as well. Every single rune painstakingly etched into the walls, floors, and ceilings and then hidden from view. One of the greatest castings of power ever undertaken in the history of Asgard. And it had all been done under Odin's very nose. He was told only after it had taken hold and his mother was within its grasp.

For years the casting held firm, flawless and unwavering in its strength.

Until the day it didn't.

_If it could be breached then, it can be done now. Loki is no less clever. Or desperate._

_Only if you're stupid enough to let it happen, Borson._

_Again._

  


*** * * * ***

  


Thor awoke just as the sun was hinting at the horizon in the northern sky. He stayed abed for a time, tossing and turning in hopes sleep would find him once more. As the first rays of dawn streamed through the windows, he surrendered the battle and dragged himself from bed. Pulling on a pair of soft trousers that sat low on his hips, Thor made use of the washbasin in the room to chase away the sleep from his face. He dried off quickly and padded out on the balcony. Pushing his hair off his face and braiding as he went, Thor looked over the mostly still sleeping city before him. His thoughts wandered to the day ahead of him and how to proceed. Stomach feeling discontent, breaking his fast held little appeal. He could always eat later. For the first time in a year, he held no desire to seek out any members of his father's council to find out what news, if any, they held.

_Annoyed with me for seeking them out while you are here, yet leave me to deal with them fully in your absence. I do not understand._

Making his way out to the training grounds and thrashing any who took him up on the challenge - now that held a great deal of appeal. Thor wondered how long before he ran out of challengers? Or before Volstagg had enough and coaxed him away.

_Father must think me a slice of bread to be heavily buttered to command my friend to hand-hold me throughout my days._

_Perhaps you gave him good reason?_

Thor turned back into his rooms, assuring himself he was not running from the sound of his brother's voice in his head answering his thoughts.

_Are you certain of that?_

_No._

A low rumble of thunder broke through the clear, brightening sky. Thor pushed it away with a touch of guilt. He would not spoil what promised to be a fine day for Asgard because his own mood was foul. Thor's mouth twisted. Would this count as meeting his father's expectations of a king putting the needs of his people ahead of his own?

_Look, Father. I did not spoil the weather this day. Are not you proud?_

Perhaps if he had not run off to Midgard the previous day, Thor could ask him.

Finding no appetite for food nor battle, the council won out. Thor would be the dutiful crown prince and ensure Asgard did not fall to pieces in the absence of its king.

He would begin after he sought news of what was happening on Midgard from Heimdall.

After dressing quickly, Thor had barely stepped foot outside his quarters before being met by a guard bearing a message.

Odin was home.

 


	11. The Return III

Odin prepared and sent his dispatches quickly. His tasks ahead ordered themselves in his mind as he worked, the course of his day taking shape. Many would wake and begin the day with a message from their king - his council, Vili, Eir. Thor. Tyr would receive a call to council in addition to a private summons. Heimdall was issued a summons as well, Odin choosing to call his watchman away from his post rather than going out to the broken Bifrost to speak with him.

Messages were sent to his steward and head of the palace guard, summoning them to him one after the other. Changes were to be made in the current living quarters for a member of the king's family. Though the rooms Loki now resided within had always been as well maintained as any other within the palace walls, they had long lacked an occupant. Now they had one and he would need food, comforts, attendants. He would undoubtedly demand much more, but Odin would make it clear none would be permitted to wait upon him unless he or the queen were present. Guards would need to be placed along the outside corridors to keep any that were not family well away.

Imprisoned though he may be, Odin was reluctant to reveal Loki's status at this point. All the more so because Odin himself was unsure how to classify it. Prisoner - yes. But still a prince. Odin wouldn't allow Loki to be seen as less, regardless of how long he remained confined. Yet he needed to be sure Loki could not give orders to anyone. It was a fine line to walk. His father had managed it for many years. Odin, too, would find a way.

Once all the dispatches were away, Odin took Gungnir in hand and moved to stand in front of the north wall of his office. Lined from top to bottom with books, there was little temptation for any who entered the king's private office to look beyond the endless rows of titles from across the Nine. But it was what lay beyond the wall Odin now sought. With a wordless command - a tap of Gungnir on the floor - a section of the wall silently pulled away to reveal another room beyond.

Every king had secrets, and for every secret kept there needed a place to keep them. Odin stepped into the warmly lit room that held his. The wall closed up behind him with barely a whisper of sound.

Few living souls knew of the room's existence. Beyond Odin's immediate family, he thought likely only Heimdall knew of it. None had ever stepped foot inside. The room was plain by palace standards, barren even. Functional. Odin spent little time within it.

A large worktable dominated the centre of the room with one chair set neatly against the wall nearby. Shelves and drawers covered two of the walls holding books, magical artifacts, and ancient maps of ancient places long ago lost to the passage of time. A third wall consisted of locked cases containing numerous objects passed down through generations of kings, the purpose of many few could recall save the directive to keep them secure and hidden. Great weapons of power were kept in their own vault deep below the palace itself. Yet the knowledge held in this hidden room equalled them in the ability to harm and destroy.

Odin turned to the shelves that held the journals of Aesir kings going back to the times of darkness. Details of great wars fought and greater knowledge sought were contained in the tomes. The books he searched through now were the ones written in his own hand. Memory guided him as he pulled one book after another free and carried them over to the worktable. Ignoring the chair, Odin paged through one book after another. He kept few journals from the time before he was king, even fewer in the years after, as his own insecurities made him reluctant to record many observations during his first turbulent years as Allfather.

These few books were the works that stretched over the years Odin spent studying and amassing interviews from every living sorcerer he could find who had a hand in casting the original spell that bound his mother inside a room. As a young prince Odin made many creative threats to force the cooperation of the spellcasters. It had been much easier after he ascended the throne and could command them to answer. Every scrap of information he ever collected about the spell cast upon that room was contained in a handful of volumes and locked away from all but Odin's eye.

As he set aside the last book, a frown settled across his face. Odin checked over the shelf again carefully. Touched his fingers over each book. Looked through the surrounding shelves, searched through the journals of his father and his grandfather. He did a circuit of the entire room, looking on every shelf, in every drawer, behind every object large enough to cover up a book. Looked in all the locked and hidden spaces.

There was a journal missing.

It wasn't possible. Odin never removed anything from this room. Never. Everything remained within these walls from the time they were built by his grandfather, Buri, and only the hand that held Gungnir could gain entry.

His search faltered.

_Only the hand that held Gungnir._

Odin closed his eye in dismay.

  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  


He was warm.

Loki held himself immobile as he woke. Keeping his eyes closed, he feigned sleep as he tried to remember where he was. And why he had let himself sleep. The air around him was still and quiet and the surface beneath him strangely soft and comfortable. He could hear nothing save soft rustling nearby that let him know he was not alone.

He reached out cautiously with his magic.

Oh. That.

Loki tried to disguise the hitch in his breath with a sigh as his magic failed to heed him. Perhaps whomever Odin sent to stand guard would be fooled and think him still asleep. Perhaps...

"Loki?"

He didn't bother to muffle his second sigh as he opened his eyes to the sight of the surrounding prison. And to her.

"Loki! You're awake." Why did she have to sound so happy about it?

"So I am." He was slow to pull himself upright on the chaise - how did he end up laying on it? - and then to his feet. He was slower to look up even as he heard her footsteps hurrying across the floor.

"Loki." Her voice broke on his name. Appropriate.

Loki met her eyes, her hopeful, tear-filled eyes, and inclined his head a fraction. "Hello, Mother."

He wasn't prepared for the force she used when she stepped forward and threw her arms around him and pulled him close. He did not embarrass himself by stumbling under the assault.

"My son! You've returned to me!"

Her shoulders shook with emotion, her breaths stuttering as she dug her hands into his back to squeeze him tighter. Loki bore it all the dignity he could muster, bent over as he was as Frigga clutched him to her with unexpected fierceness. His arms raised in reflex before he forced them back down to his sides. When Frigga released him at last, it was only to hold him out at arms length, her hands gripping his upper arms. Her eyes searching.

Loki took a step back. She let him go. Frigga's arms remained outstretched toward him before she dropped them down slowly, folding her trembling hands together at her waist. Her smile was shaky, but every bit as brilliant as he remembered. He turned away so he didn't have to look at it.

"Loki..."

"Is this to be my prison then?"

She hesitated and Loki spoke quickly before she could lie to him.

"Well now, let's not ruin our joyous reunion by deceiving ourselves." He tried to flash a grin at her, but could feel his lips tighten and stretch flat in response to the sadness that fell across Frigga's face at his words. He turned away, unable to meet her eyes.

"I understand you are angry..." Frigga began.

"Angry? Why would I be angry?" Loki said, ignoring the small voice in his mind that chided him for his rudeness in interrupting her. He paced lightly along the centre of the room, avoiding Frigga's gaze. "Odin really should be applauded for his creativity. Locking me up in the dungeons would have been so easy after all. A fitting punishment for his traitorous false son. Oh, but this? A bespelled room that keeps the beast tame? Right above the very halls where he roamed freely as a child, so he may be reminded of all that was never his? It's brilliant! I would applaud in his favour, but I'm not sure such a thing would be permitted. Hmm, I wonder just what must happen for the magic in this room to strike me down?"

"Please don't do this," Frigga's voice was weary.

"Do what? Give voice to the lie? I see not why I should keep silent now. Surely none else will. How all those who always sensed I was no son of Odin must rejoice in knowing they were right all along."

"Loki, your father..."

"He's not my father!"

His outburst surprised them both.

"No?" she asked. "The king of Asgard departed his realm for the first time in a thousand years upon the word his son was alive and on Midgard. Do you know I wanted him to send Thor?"

That got his attention. Frigga noticed. "It's true. He was going to. He changed his mind. Instead, setting off to find you himself and bring you home."

"A heart-warming tale of devotion indeed." Loki looked around him. "Yet I find myself imprisoned all the same."

Frigga pressed her lips together. "You know full well it was your actions that brought you here."

"My actions?" Loki scoffed. "I was merely giving truth to the lie that I've been fed my entire life - that I was born to be a king."

"A king? A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Midgard?"

"A mere handful compared to the number Odin has taken himself." Loki goaded her, waiting for her reaction, for her to tell him why the Allfather's actions were acceptable and his not. He received only an elegant pair of brows raised silently in his direction. He ducked his head and turned away, telling himself it was to regroup not because he suddenly felt like a misbehaving child.

Loki busied himself looking over the room, eyeing the furnishings. He found he could recall little about the room from the previous evening, so intent on escaping, and then destroying it, he took in little of the surroundings. All the furnishings had been set to rights and all the broken pieces removed. There were halls and rooms off the main room, much like the quarters he once lived in a lifetime ago. He could feel her eyes on him as he prowled about.

He paused by a low-slung table set off by itself in an inconspicuous corner. Covered dishes were laid out on a tray big enough to cover the table. Fragrant smells wafted free from beneath the covers. His stomach gave a painful twist in response even as his mouth began to water. Loki couldn't remember when he last had something to eat.

He felt Frigga at his shoulder. "You should eat."

"I'm not hungry," he said, stepping away from the table.

"Must you be so stubborn? Even now."

Loki huffed an unamused laugh. "I cannot imagine where I learned such behaviour."

"Loki," Frigga sighed. "I brought some of your things to you, some clothes and books I think you'll enjoy. I will bring more. If there's anything in particular you would like, tell me."

"Open the doors and free me?" Loki said, adopting his best smile.

"Within reason," she amended.

"Ah, yes, mustn't let the monster roam free."

"You are not a monster."

Loki twitched. _Are you sure?_ "I thank you for the delightful company, my queen. But as I am sure your time is in great demand, I would keep you no longer."

"'Queen'?" Frigga stepped into his line of sight.  "So formal. Am I not your mother?"

He stared at her conflicted before choosing his words. "You're not."

Loki regretted it immediately. The sharp pain in his heart mirroring the one in her eyes.

A gentle smile settled on her face. Loki forced himself to look at it. She reached for him, her hand cradling on the side of his face. "Always so perceptive of everyone but yourself."

Loki cast his eyes down, unable to look at the hurt he caused or step away from her. Frigga pulled away her hand only to brush her knuckles along his cheek even as she leaned up to press a kiss on the other. He held himself stiffly when all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her. To let her hold him and pet his hair and tell him everything would be all right, as she did so often when he was a child and had an upset. Loki held himself firm while berating himself for his weakness. _Still wanting to run snivelling to Mother, how things never change._

He didn't move as Frigga pulled away. "Find some rest, Loki. Eat," she said. "I will visit you again, very soon. I promise."

Loki listened to her retreating footsteps. They paused near the doors. "You are my son, Loki, and I your mother. I am so grateful you have come home to me. Whatever else comes, please know that."

As the doors shut behind her, Loki scrubbed a hand across his face and closed his eyes against the hot moisture building in them. He reminded himself she had lied to him every bit as much as Odin, trying to stoke his anger.

_They lied. They all lied. What did they expect would happen? This is all their fault!_

But the words only left him feeling hollow.

  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  


After receiving his father's summons, Thor did a quick walk through of his family's home in search of him, having no desire to wait for the time Odin had set for them to meet in his study. But Odin was nowhere to be found. He was not within in his study, nor any where else Thor could see. In fact, Thor could not find either of his parents in any of their rooms. The guard who had delivered his message had no additional information to offer, not able to tell him Odin's current location or if he returned alone.

Hesitatingly only briefly at the main doors, Thor entered and looked through Loki's rooms as well. He had not been within them in many months. Though his parents frequently visited Loki's rooms, Thor quickly found he could not bear to be in them. Without Loki residing in them they only reminded Thor of the gaping hole in his existence where his brother should be.

Busy the prior day with servants swarming through at his mother's direction the rooms now stood empty. There were a few new pieces of furniture, decorations to replace some of the empty spaces that had held things sent forth in a burning boat. Flowers and plants, likely scooped from the soil of their mother's gardens and repotted dotted the balconies and airy spaces. Loki's rooms smelled fresh, renewed, everything made to welcome a lost son home.

Somehow they felt emptier now than they had after Loki's death.

Thor left them behind and ventured out into the rest of the palace. Volstagg lingered in the expansive hall beyond the royal family's living space as he did each morning. His friend was surprised to hear Odin had returned so quickly and knew less than the guard at Thor's door. With a few words, Volstagg hurried away to gather whatever information he could find while Thor set off through the palace's corridors in search of his parents. Asking the Einherjar that lined the halls outside the family halls merited him little as to the whereabouts of the queen. None who had come on duty that morning recalled seeing her. When Thor prodded them as to whether they saw anyone unexpected he received only confused looks.

Thor located Odin almost at once from the presence of guards outside the king's study doors. Wherever his father had been when Thor looked for him earlier, he'd now returned. And the longer he had searched for his absent family members, the more convinced Thor was that Loki was home. His father would not have gone to Midgard just to return home without him.

The thought occurred to Thor as his stepped quickened that perhaps they were all in father's study now, his father, mother, and Loki. Perhaps his parents wished to speak to Loki privately before sending for Thor?

Then why was Heimdall here?

Thor paused when the door to the study swung open and Heimdall strode out and departed in the opposite direction. Though Heimdall did not acknowledge him, Thor did not doubt he was seen. Thor wasted no time reaching the study and delivering a firm knock on the outer door. After a moment, his father's voice echoed through the thick wood bidding him entry.

Odin was alone in the room. Thor felt a bitter stab of disappointment.

"And just what have I done to merit that look?"

Thor blinked, at once surprised and irritated. "Truly? You ask me this after you abandoned Asgard to go haring off to another realm. By yourself. Without discussing it with anyone first, I might add."

That Odin look amused only increased his irritation.

"How odd," Odin said. "I was always of the belief that as king I was free to take whatever actions I deemed best without asking permission first. Clearly, I have been ruling this realm incorrectly all along. How good it is that I have my son and heir present to inform me of this. I never would have known otherwise."

"That is not what I meant and you bloody well know it."

"Watch your tone." Odin no longer looked amused.

"I will not," Thor shot back. "What you did was as foolish and reckless as any action of mine where you've accused me of the same."

"Step carefully, my son," Odin's tone was mild, though the warning rang clear. "Or should I remind you of a certain ill-fated trip to Jotunheim you took only one year ago, dragging your friends and your younger brother along with you."

Thor's neck grew hot at the reminder. "I have not forgotten that mistake. Nor have I forgotten the lessons I learned from it."

"I am pleased to hear it."

Thor studied his father. He looked weary, older than he did the prior morning. "When last we spoke, you intended to send me to Midgard. I waited only for the word you were ready. Then I receive a message informing me you have gone instead. Father, I don't understand. What changed?"

Odin gave him a long look. "What changed," he repeated. "What indeed." His attention slid away from Thor. He studied his hands clasped together on top of his desk and seemed lost in thought. Thor was about to ask him again when Odin resumed speaking, still focused on his hands.

"Thor, when you become a father, you will find the balance of kingship and family to be unforgivably difficult. I hope you will be blessed, as I have been, with a wife who is able to make up for your shortcomings, as well as the absences you will have in your children's lives. And there will be absences. But, despite the worthiness of your wife, you will still be the only father your children have and there will be times when they need you - their father, not their king. You may not always be aware of these times. They can, and will, escape your notice.  Despite my best intentions I have not often enough put fatherhood ahead of kingship. You and your brother both suffered for it."

"Father, that's..."

Odin held up a hand, staving off the protest to the contrary Thor was about to utter. Pulling his sight off his hands, Odin's eye settled on Thor and he smiled ruefully. "You may disagree, but I hold to it nonetheless. I did not make enough time for you, either of you. I regret that more than you'll ever know. So, in this instance, I opted to put fatherhood first and leave the realm in the more than capable hands of my oldest son and my wife and put my youngest son first."

It was the answer to the question Thor had been wanting but left unasked. "Loki is home?"

"Yes."

Thor opened his mouth to speak again and found his throat suddenly too thick to speak. He swallowed hard to clear his throat. "He is well?"

Odin hesitated briefly before answering. "Yes."

"Is Midgard safe?"

"Yes. The invasion failed before it began. Without Loki or the Tesseract, these Chitauri have no means to reach the mortal realm. Not for a long time. Should they choose to still come without Loki ushering the way, we will see them coming. And we will deal with them."

Thor felt some of his tension carried since he first learned of the planned invasion easing away. Though the promise of battle still made his heart sing, he could not fathom the carnage that would be wrought against Midgard if Loki had been successful. Especially since his mind still found it difficult to accept Loki would do such a thing.

Even after what happened at the Bifrost.

"I want to see him, where is he? The dungeons?" No matter what Loki had done, or tried to do, Thor didn't think his brother's spirit would take well to being locked away. The idea made his heart ache.

"No."

"Then where?" Thor couldn't contain his puzzlement. He'd already looked through Loki's rooms. They were clearly unoccupied.

Odin told him and Thor's bafflement grew.

"He will remain in those rooms until further notice. You may visit him - just yourself. For the time being no one else may enter unless your mother or I are present. And Thor," Odin paused, considering his words. "If Loki should ask you for anything, to bring him anything, no matter how innocent the request may seem, do not do so without discussing it with me first. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Thor said. He changed his mind almost immediately. "No. I do not understand. At all. What is so remarkable about those rooms? Can you not simply put some shielding and guards around his old rooms and let him stay in there? Surely that would be better?"

"Thor," Odin exhaled his name on a sigh. "Where Loki is now is for the best, for Loki especially. I am sorry you are confused. I must ask you trust my judgement in this matter. Can you?"

"You explain nothing, yet ask for trust," Thor could hear his frustration bleeding into his voice.

Odin considered him. "Is it truly so difficult for you to give?"

"Not difficult, no," Thor spoke carefully. "I do trust you, Father. But I ask at some point you trust me in return. I will do as you say regarding Loki, and bring him nothing without asking you or Mother first."

Thor backed up a step and turned to leave. He stopped at Odin's voice at his back.

"I do, Thor. Trust you. Very much so. I am sorry I've given you reason to doubt it."

Thor turned back. "I'm sorry as well. Loki is home and Midgard is saved. I have no quarrel with this outcome, though I still feel I should have been the one who went instead in case the Chitauri did come."  

Odin leaned back in his chair. "Oh? I see. You think your ancient and decrepit father should stay at home to mind his throne and leave war and fighting to the young?"

Thor fought back a smile. "Father, even _I_ know better than to say that."

  
  


*** * * * ***

  
  


Left to his own devices, Loki explored his surroundings. He found all the rooms open and spacious and perfectly adequate - expect for the fact he could not find a way to escape them. He tested every door, examined every window and balcony. None of the outer doors opened. He could go out on the balconies, but soon found even that was limited. Loki could stand at the rail and even look over it, but as soon as he leaned over too far, he stopped. Just as he had tried to cut himself with a dagger, something stopped him.

It felt like being on the end of an invisible leash. He did not care for it.

It was obvious to him now the room had been cast with powerful magics. Magics that could override his own power, his own will. Pacing endlessly through one room to the next to the next, Loki could not think of any spell or casting from any of realm he knew of that could do such a thing. That such a thing could exist - and that Odin could clearly cast it at any time - without Loki knowing was maddening.

_So, the old fool concocted a method of keeping his stray in check should he go rabid._

Rage over having been so easily led into a cage threatened to blind him. Hands clenched into fists at his sides, Loki stalked back to the main room. He resolved to examine the doors again. He would examine every single inch of his prison until he discovered a way to escape it.

Passing by the food laden table, the smells caught him and his stomach gave another painful twist. Loki paused and lifted the cover off one of the dishes. All at once his senses were assaulted with warm fragrance of spiced apples baked into golden pastries and drizzled with honey. His mouth watered.

He re-covered the dish and pushed it away. As he did he heard the doors behind him swing open.

_Mother._

Loki turned to greet her and the words dried up on his tongue as he saw his new visitor.

It was Thor.

 


	12. The Return IV

Loki didn't move. Frozen in place the moment he saw Thor's eyes land on him. He watched as Thor stepped hesitantly further into the room, eyes locked with Loki's as the doors swung shut of their own accord. Loki felt strangled by the intensity of Thor's gaze. He could hear the pounding of his own heart in his ears. His chest hurt and his eyes stung as Thor moved closer and closer before stopping in the middle of the room. Loki squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, willing the stinging away, before fixing a wide, toothy smile on his face.

Thor stared at him, nostrils flaring. He didn't speak even as a myriad of emotions swept across his features plain for any to see and know.

"Oh dear," Loki said, pleased his voice didn't sound as choked as his throat felt. "You're wearing your angry bull face. That never bodes well. I suppose I should be grateful to be spared the snorting and pawing at the ground. Or is that still to come? I can never..."

Thor was the rest of the way across the room before Loki could blink, grabbing hold of him before Loki could duck away. Thor's grip on Loki's upper arms was tight. Thor shook him hard once. Then once again. He let go of one arm to wrap his warm hand around the back of Loki's neck. When Thor finally spoke his voice was wrecked, choked and full of anger and something else Loki refused to think about. "Don't you ever - ever! - do that again." Every word was forced out in a way Loki expected to be punctuated with thunder.

But the air around them was quiet, save for Thor's harsh breathing. Loki wasn't convinced he was still breathing at all. His mouth dropped open of its own accord as he stared dumbly at Thor. Loki regained himself enough to laugh, soft and mocking.

"I'm afraid you'll be have to be more specific."

Thor released him with a shove hard enough Loki had to take a step back to maintain his balance. He readied himself for a blow. Moth - Frigga had always chided them as children for being incapable of having any kind of heated argument that didn't degenerate into fisticuffs. If he was honest, they'd never really grown out of it.

The blow didn't come. Thor backed off to a safe distance and turned his back on Loki. His hands were clenched into fists held at his sides and Loki could still hear him breathing, hard and fast.

Unable to help himself, Loki followed in his wake. "Oh come now, Thor, surely you don't need to stop and think about it? Let me help. Let's see, never attack your precious Midgard again? Or perhaps never again set the Destroyer on you and your traitorous friends? I suppose there's little risk of that happening again given its fate. Unless Odin built another one. I wouldn't know."

Loki stopped and waited. Waited for Thor to turn around. Waited for the roar and the first punch to be thrown. He balanced lightly on the balls of his feet waiting for Thor to do...something.

Thor kept his back to him. Ignoring him.

Loki felt the curling flame of anger climbing up from his chest into his throat, felt it spread through his limbs and heat his cheeks. His own hands balled into fists at his sides. "Or perhaps it was the throne I took from you?" he continued, his voice rising unheeded. "Never mind it became mine by right the moment Odin threw you out of Asgard. But you never did like anyone taking what you thought was yours, now did you? Much less someone who dared step out of his _place_. His place in your shadow!"

Thor spun around so fast Loki had to fight his instinct to take a step back. He hadn't realized he'd come up so close to Thor that now, standing face to face, they were almost touching.

"Never make me watch you fall to your death," Thor said. His eyes were glittering with unshed tears. His voice was still harsh, but quieter without the force of anger behind it. "Never force our family to mourn you. Never do that again."

Loki could only stare helplessly at him. His anger warring with a strange, sudden urge to offer Thor a comforting word.

_Some things truly never change. Always quick to come running to heel. Pathetic._

He noticed Thor's hands coming up from his sides, open and reaching. It occurred to him Thor might be trying to hug him. Loki snarled and roughly shoved past him. Rage roared through his blood as he remembered.

_Falling._

_Thor's face looking down at him._

_Screaming._

_No. Wait. That wasn't right._

_Thor's face looking down at him._

_Smiling._

_Yes._

_No._

Loki squeezed his eyes shut again and gave his head a shake to try and clear the confusion. "You have gall, _Odinson_ ," he spit out. "Daring to claim you mourned me."

"We all did," Thor said. "Our father..."

"Your father," Loki cut him off and turned back to face Thor with sharp smile. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?" He waited for the look of disgust to creep across Thor's face, waited to savour it.

Thor looked back at him unmoved. "We were raised together. We played together. We fought together. Do you remember none of that?"

Annoyance prickled across Loki's skin. "Why are you even here?" he demanded. "Have you come to mock me? Gloat over my imprisonment?"

"What? No, of course not," Thor said. He had the nerve to look hurt.

Loki laughed. "Oh, really? It gives you no pleasure to see me leashed and brought to heel? After everything I've done? I would have burned Midgard to ash if Odin hadn't stopped me." Loki crept closer with every word, delighting in seeing Thor's face tighten with anger. "Slaughtered every single one of your precious, little mortals." Pleasure coursed through his belly the lower Thor's brow came down over his eyes. Loki grinned madly, leaning in as though he were sharing a confidence.

"Though perhaps I would have spared your whore, Jane Foster. Just long enough to see if she was _worthy_."

It was a relief to finally see Thor's fist coming at his face. Before Loki had the chance to throw up his arm to block, Thor's hand froze in mid-air. They both stared bewildered at the clenched fist. Thor's body seemed to jerk and he took couple quick steps back. His fist dropped slowly to his side.

_Interesting._

Thor cast his eyes down at the rug beneath his feet. Loki could see the clenching of his jaw. When Thor looked back up, his gaze was steady.

"You are trying to goad me," Thor said, dangerously calm. "It won't work. Yes, I am angry. And yes, I want answers, Loki. But I came to see you because you are my brother and I missed you."

Loki backed away. He didn't look away from Thor's face, didn't offer any reaction to his words. He backed away until his side brushed up against a table that held a full decanter of wine brought by Frigga. Without hesitating, Loki snatched it up and hurled it as hard as he could at Thor's head. Thor ducked instinctively and the decanter sailed well above and over him to smash harmlessly against a wall. Wine exploded in all directions, dripping down the wall and off nearby furniture, soaking into rugs and pooling on exposed floor.

Thor glanced at the mess behind him before casting Loki a wary look.

"Get out," Loki snarled through clenched teeth. He could feel tears threatening to escape his eyes. "Get out before I find something that'll take off your head."

To Loki's surprise, Thor went. To his relief, the tears spilled only after the doors closed behind him.

*** * * * ***

 

"I am to be informed of all your findings, Healer, no matter of how little consequence they seem. Is that understood?"

Eir inclined her head slowly and without comment. She'd been perplexed when Odin explained his need for her to examine Loki within a heavily bespelled room, then intrigued when he assured her the magics would not interfere with her own. Odin leaned back heavily in his chair. He had thought to wait until he was available to oversee Eir's visit to Loki personally, but had dismissed the idea his presence was needed. First, it would mean waiting until late in the day after Odin had finished with his council and attended to a few other tasks. This he was not willing to. And second, he imagined the tension his presence would bring within the room would be not be conducive to Eir or to Loki.  Odin couldn't delude himself that Loki would welcome him overseeing his examination by a healer. No, best to leave it to the one in which Loki may still hold trust.

"I will return to the healing hall to gather what I will need, my king. Unless, you prefer I seek out the queen first?"

Odin turned his head away from the healer, his attention drifting to the door set in the wall to his back and the door leading into his family's living quarters. "Perhaps best to wait and consult with my wife, Eir. You will not have to wait long."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when the door behind him flew open without so much as a warning knock and Frigga crossed into Odin's study.

Eir rose to her feet quickly and gracefully bowed her head. "My queen."

Frigga returned Eir's regard with a small smile. "Eir. You are just the woman I was hoping to see."

Eir smiled back. "The king had told me of the wondrous news of your son's return, my lady. You must be overjoyed."

This time Frigga's smile was more open and pure. "Indeed I am. More than I have words to describe." Her smile faded as she turned her attention to Odin still seated at his desk. "Good healer," she said to Eir. "I need to speak with you urgently, but first I would speak with my lord husband. Would you be good enough to wait for me in the outer corridor?"

"Of course. Your majesties."

Odin grunted a dismissal even as he stared down at the top of his desk. He told himself he was not in the least bit reluctant to face his wife after their unpleasant confrontation upon his return, nor was he avoiding her gaze even as he felt her eyes boring into his skull. He heard Eir's footsteps as she departed the study and closed the heavy, outer door behind her. Odin lifted his head to confirm the door was well shut before looking over to his wife. Seeing the door behind her still ajar, Odin made a small motion with his hand and that door also shut firmly.  

"I know what you're going to ask," Odin said, climbing to his feet and straightening to face her.

Frigga raised at skeptical brow at him. "Oh? Learned to know my mind better than I, have you?"

He winced at her scathing tone and resisted the urge to relieve some of his own tensions and snap back at her. She would undoubtedly make him regret it.

"I know my own wife well enough to know why she comes to my study seeking the royal healer. That our son is foremost on your mind comes as no great surprise."

"Loki deserves to be foremost on one of our minds," Frigga retorted.

Odin, stung by the accusation, gave her a hard look. "I will have you know, woman, that before you barged into my office uninvited I was about to send the healer out to find you. I had just finished giving her instruction making Loki's well-being her highest priority. I have done nothing this day save to ensure my son's well-being. I am about to sit with my council and ensure it further. How dare you suggest otherwise! I would remind you he wouldn't even be here if it weren't for my placing him above all else!"

His voice rose unintended as he spoke, until he was near enough shouting. When he realized this, he stopped speaking and looked down at his feet until he'd quelled his temper. When he was sure he was in control, he continued in a more measured tone. "I am well aware you are angry with my methods, Frigga. You've made it plain. But do not accuse me of disregarding him. Not now."

Frigga's face was unreadable. When she spoke her manner was stiff. "Eir can see him?"

"Yes, Eir can see him. She will have to go to him and I've explained why. I will leave it to the two of you to decide how best to approach this. I don't expect she'll find much by the way of injury. He seemed unhurt when I found him and he did not leave my sight once until after I brought him home."

Frigga nodded slowly. "I saw no obvious signs of injury either. Though he looked better for having rested, he did not look well to my eye when first I saw him."

"Nor to mine," Odin said. "Though it is possible that was the result of how he came to Midgard. I cannot imagine it was pleasant."

"Do you know where he travelled from? Where he was? Did he tell you?"

"No, he told me far too little." Odin smiled, unamused. "I was rather hoping he might tell you."

"He did not."

"I see," Odin faltered, unsure how to give voice to what lingered at the back of his mind.

Frigga beat him to it. "You are concerned about his mind."

"Yes." He locked his gaze with hers and saw clearly her own uncertainty. "You share those concerns."

Her mouth flattened into an unhappy line. "He is angry," she said, non-committal.

"He is," Odin agreed. "And great anger can bring about many things one may have thought oneself incapable of doing. Trying to wipe out an entire planet. Invading another. When we were on Midgard, Loki said things, things that were not true, things that did not happen. Mayhap he was lying, or filled with so much rage he didn't hear his own words. Yet, I worry he may believe them. He's been gone a year, Frigga. Out of our sight and beyond the protection of the ones who love him. I would know how much of our Loki remains in that angry boy upstairs."

Frigga stepped closer to him, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face with the practised eye of a long-wed wife. "What are you not saying, Odin? You suspect something. Do you know what happened to him?"

"No," he answered honestly. "I do not know. And I know nothing for certain. I hope Eir will give me answers. If Loki is just angry and confused and lashing out, well, then I will accept it and deal with it. If there is something more... I will deal with that, also."

"We," Frigga said. "We will deal with it."

He offered her the barest of smiles. "Yes. We."

*** * * * ***

 

"Father."

Vili slowed to allow his son to catch up with him. The vast corridor outside of Odin's study was surprisingly unbusy as Vili made his approach. Only the usual guards in attendance, along with Eir hovering outside the king's door. But then the hour was still early enough most had other matters to attend to than standing about waiting for the king's door to open.

Baldur brushed up again his shoulder, eyes alert as he took in the mostly empty corridor and closed door. When Eir looked their way, Baldur gave her a bright smile which she was quick to return.

"Should you not be attending your students this hour?" Vili asked. Touted as one of the finest swordsmen in Asgard, Baldur did not need to be the king's nephew to secure whatever posting he pleased in Asgard's forces. He surprised none who knew him well when he opted to stay close to home and teach younglings, many of whom not yet big enough to hold a sword, how to fight. He spent most mornings at this time on the training grounds watching over children whacking at practice targets - and occasionally each other - with wooden swords.

"They've not all arrived yet. One of the other Masters is keeping an eye on the rest. I heard a rumour on my way to the grounds. I wanted to see if there was truth to it before I return."

"Oh?" Vili could imagine the latest rumours taking hold after Odin's mysterious leave the previous day, and equally mysterious return in the dead of night. Not for the life of him could Vili understand why his brother always had to be so dramatic about things.

"That Loki has come home." At Vili's sharp look, Baldur shrugged. "I overheard Thor's friend, Volstagg, asking some of the overnight guards outside the barracks if they knew anything. He wasn't being as subtle as he thinks he was. So, is it true?"

"I do not yet know, not for sure," Vili said. "But Odin is home and determined as he was to find Loki when he left, he would have not have returned without him."

"Know your brother that well, do you?"

"No. Just speaking as a father," Vili smiled at him. "If it were you lost on Midgard, I wouldn't return without you either. And not just because your mother would have my head if I did."

Baldur fidgeted in place. "Oh," he cleared his throat. "Well, if you see Loki tell him I said hello. I'm sure I'll see him soon at whatever welcoming feast Uncle holds for him."

"Of course."

Baldur nodded at him before darting across the corridor to give Eir a swift kiss on her cheek. "Have a good day, Grandmother," he told her before hurrying off for the training grounds and his waiting students.

Vili crossed the corridor at a more sedate pace to stand next to the healer. Eir watched Baldur depart with fondness. When she spied Vili approaching her, the light in her eyes soured somewhat. He was used to it.

"Vili," she greeted him politely.

"Good morning, Eir. I see we are both starting our day waiting on a door to open."

"I have already spoken with the king. The queen is in with him now. She asked me to wait for her."

"Had the king any news to share?"

She gave him a dismissive look. "Perhaps you best ask the king."

Vili swallowed a sigh. "Perhaps I should."

They waited in uncomfortable silence. Vili fervently wishing Odin would hurry up and open the door. Eir undoubtedly wishing Vili had never been born. No, that was unfair. She likely wished he lived only long enough to produce Baldur and then died of some terrible wasting illness that was beyond her ability to heal.

Minutes crawled by like days before the door finally swung open and Frigga swept out into the corridor. Vili took a step back at the sight of her tight expression. She forced a smile his way that was painful in its falseness.

"Hello, Vili." Frigga took firm hold of his arm and pulled him closer to her. "You will not like what you are about to hear," she said quietly, almost pitying. She released him before he could react and turned to Eir. "Are you ready?"

Eir inclined her head minutely. "Whenever you are, my lady."

Vili was quick to side-step out of their path as they strode off. He watched them for a moment before ducking into Odin's study unbeckoned and pulling the door closed behind him.

Odin stood in the middle of the room, clearly waiting for him. His mouth threatening to smirk when he saw Vili's face. "I hope you were not trapped in Lady Eir's company for too long?"

Vili released the gust of air he'd been holding back. It came out more hiss than sigh. Odin's lips twitched before he turned back to his desk. Vili narrowed his eyes at his brother's smug back. "I have been married to her daughter for a thousand years. I will never understand why she must be like this," he complained.

Odin laughed as he dropped into his chair. "No? Remind me how many centuries you dithered about before finally gathering your nerve and asking Fulla to wed you? If you can't recall, ask her mother. Clearly, she remembers."

Vili glared at him. Odin just laughed more. "Well, I see you are home," Vili said, shamelessly directing the conversation away from his relationship with his mother-in-law. "Can I take it to mean Loki is as well?"

Odin's mirth melted away at once, his face turning somber. "Yes, he is." He gestured at one of the visitor's chairs on the other side of his desk. "Sit down, Vili. I will tell what has transpired since last we spoke."

Vili sat. He listened. Frigga was right. He didn't like it.

 

*** * * * ***

 

Odin's footsteps echoed through the empty Great Hall. Still guarded and off-limits to all until the king gave the word. Until he retrieved what had been left behind. The sceptre.

The Tesseract Odin had consigned to the Weapon's Vault, protective casing and all. He would decide how to contain it on a more permanent basis when he had time to ponder the matter. To keep an Infinity Stone was no small thing. He had informed his council of its presence in Asgard. Ordered study to commence at once as to how best to persuade it to lend its power to the reconstruction of the Bifrost. "This is your highest priority," he'd said. "Asgard cannot afford to be cut off from the other realms any longer."

His council meeting had been short, matching his patience. Odin delivered his news without taking his seat. With Thor seated on his right, expression like thunder and smelling like wine and Vili on his left, stone-faced and stiff, Odin told the council of the averted invasion, retrieved Tesseract, and return of his second son.

In the space of as many minutes, Odin reminded his lords of Loki's fall into the Void no less than three times and gave hints that he may have been lost there for some time before finding his way to Midgard. As predicted, several of them blanched and he could see the questions they wanted to ask but did not dare give voice.

_How did the prince survive?_

_How long was he falling?_

_Is his mind still intact?_

"It has been decided it best for Loki to remain in seclusion until he has recovered from his experience and acclimated to being back in Asgard. He is not to be disturbed under any circumstances," Odin had said, ignoring the increasingly furious looks Thor was giving him and daring any to raise an objection.

None did.

The meeting was short and no sooner had Odin dismissed them then Vili was out of his chair and out the door without speaking to anyone. Thor was slower, but not far behind his uncle. Odin left the way he came to and avoided them all. Irrationally irritated over having so many members of his family angry at him, Odin wondered if he should seek out his nephew on the training grounds and criticize Baldur's sword work or teaching methods while he was at it. _Let them all be angry at once_ , was his thinking before reason re-asserted itself.  

Odin couldn't blame any of them for their anger. Thor was angry because he was confused over actions he didn't understand. Frigga because Odin took actions without consulting her. Vili because in telling his brother where Loki was being held, Odin ripped open an old wound that existed between them.

And then there was Loki. Angry when last they spoke before Odin fell into his sleep. Angry before the terrible blankness settled across his face and swept him away to his death. Angry on Midgard. Angry when returned home. Odin wondered if his mild, youngest son always held this potential for burning rage within him? Had Odin just never noticed? Or was there something else at work?

The sceptre was where he'd left it near the dais. Still dormant and discoloured from having been wrapped in layer upon layer of Odin's seidr. Looking innocuous. Odin supposed Gungnir may deceive others the same way if they were ignorant of its power. Or its master.

He stood eyeing the sceptre for a long while before finally bending to retrieve it. What to do with this? It would be the height of foolishness to keep it anywhere near the Tesseract. Or other...items secured in the Vault. That Loki held and wielded it made his stomach lurch. That Loki appeared suddenly on Midgard with this sceptre in hand in pursuit of the Tesseract made Odin suspicious.

How could Loki come by such thing? And to know to follow the Tesseract to the very place it was hidden long before Loki was born? Not to mention manipulating the Tesseract from undoubtedly far away into opening a portal for him travel through. The few answers Odin could think of were not to his liking. It would take not an inconsiderable amount of power to manipulate the Tesseract. It was always said to court the true power of the Infinity Stones was to court Death.

There had always been mad fools willing to attempt it. One in particular.

_It cannot be. He was destroyed._

Odin waved the guards away from their assignment to secure the Hall as he carried the sceptre away with him. Once he was closeted back in his study, he opened his awareness, keeping focus on what was hidden within the end of the staff. He could sense nothing, no presence lingering or reaching through from elsewhere. His seidr had erected a strong enough barrier, but Odin knew it would only be temporary. He took up Gungnir and repeated his earlier motion to access his study's inner room and carried the sceptre within, setting it down in the middle of his worktable. He knew not how long he stood there staring at it, his mind searching, his awareness open and bearing down on the object before him.

His father told him there had been a least one Infinity Stone destroyed, yet never said how such a thing was accomplished. As far as Odin could tell, the Aether never appeared again after Asgard's last war with the Dark Elves. If it had truly been destroyed, no record existed of how it was done. If, as Odin suspected at times, the Aether had been hidden away instead, that knowledge too died with Bor. Odin had read every journal his father had penned. Bor's written entries were much like Odin remembered him in life, curt and brief. His lack of details every bit as maddening after his death as they had been when he was alive.

The Aether was the Reality Stone, the Tesseract the Space Stone. Asgard had overseen custody of the latter since the end of the One Great War. To Odin's knowledge, the Aether was the only of the other great stones of power to have ever passed through the Nine since. They never did find out how the Dark Elves came to posses it.

Yet, now laid out on the table before him was the Mind Stone. Odin was sure of it. How it came to be in his son's hands, he was less sure.

But he intended to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to add: I should mention here that I intend to rewrite (*cough*make up*cough) some family trees in this story. For the purposes of this story, Baldur is the son of Vili (Odin's bro) & Fulla (daughter of Eir), thus making him Thor & Loki's cousin.


	13. The Return V

Loki seethed in silence long after Thor departed and abandoned him to his gilded prison. He couldn't help but try the doors once more. Much like Mjolnir, the doors remained unmovable to him. And yet his attempts continued. _They say attempting the same action over and over again each time expecting a different result leads to madness._ Loki pushed the thought away.

He breathed deeply and crossed the room with even, steady steps. Back and forth, back and forth. Eventually, his muscles released their tension, relaxing bit by bit as Loki worked to calm himself. The smell of wine hung in the air with every step. The smell of food breaking through each time Loki passed within reach of the table where the tray still sat, untouched. He kept moving. Breathing. Muscles unclenching. Mind clearing.

He avoided stepping in any of the pools of wine as he paced. Wondered if any servants would be permitted over the threshold or if he would be expected to clean the mess himself. His eyes swept across the room, hazy memories of destruction flashing uncomfortably in his minds-eye. Someone had cleaned up after him while he slept. His gut twisted uncomfortably when he considered who had done so.

A queen should not clean up after anyone, much less a pet monster. It was beneath her dignity.

Loki detoured down a short hall branching off the main room, its walls lined with cupboards filled with all the supplies the one residing there may need. In truth, they were servant's cupboards. They were present in his former chambers as well. He'd never much bothered with them. Princes did not crawl about inside cupboards. That was why they had servants.

Earlier after Frigga left him, Loki had rifled through every single one of them while searching for a way out. He did not find escape, but instead stacks of carefully folded linens and blankets, pillows, tableware, candles, personal grooming products, and a truly dizzying variety of trinkets he had no use for. His earlier frustration at not being able to find what he sought now lay strewn before him in another mess. Cupboard doors hung open with some items hanging out and others haphazardly piled on the floor where he'd dropped them after pulling them out.

He ignored the feeling in his gut that continued to gnaw on him as he kicked through the piles, pulling out needed items. Retreating back into the main room, he dropped the gathered cloths on the puddles of wine. Using another cloth, he wiped the drips on the wall. The wall remained discoloured in places, as did the floor after he toed the cloths around with his boot and retrieved them. He rolled up the rug that caught the worst of the spill and deposited the whole despoiled lot in the unobtrusive alcove he remembered Odin mentioning to him before locking him up and leaving him behind. Loki retrieved the decanter, split in two by the force of his throw and added the pieces to the pile of detritus. Returning to the servant's hall, he clumsily scooped up and shoved everything back into the cupboards and pushed closed all the doors.

Back in the main room, the guilt Loki had been ignoring dissipated and annoyance rolled through him. He should have left the mess as it was. Should have left it as evidence of his displeasure. He was no servant and should never have lowered himself so. _Know your place._

Fists clenching, Loki struggled to keep his breathing even and calm as the tension returned to stiffen his muscles. The wine smell lifted somewhat with the worst of the mess wiped up and cleared away, and with fresher air blowing through the room through the open windows. But Loki could still smell it on him, especially now on his hands for having cleaned up the spill. He sniffed hard and became sharply aware of other smells, sour and metallic. With a curl of his lip he realized they were emanating from him.

Every pore of his being felt caked in sweat and grime. He was filthy. Loki had not bathed in - he couldn't remember.

Disgust drove him to seek out the expansive bathing room. Like every other room in the suite, the bathing room was luxurious. Wide open space, filled with gleaming fixtures and lush furnishings. One entire wall was mirrored, the glass etched with elegant carvings. Loki half-heartedly ran his fingers along the mirror, testing to see if it would respond to his desire to walk through it. Nothing happened. A painted mural covered another wall and depicted a forest scene, complete with birds and animals hidden amongst the trees.

Loki stared at it, both for its unfamiliar contents and its uniqueness as a decoration in Asgard. Asgardians preferred weaving art and history and great stories into massive tapestries to be hung in halls throughout the realm. They were infused with enough seidr to make the images come to life. They used holograms as well to project images of their ancestors onto walls. There was even a massive projection of Yggdrasil in the one of palace halls that had always fascinated Loki as a child. But painting directly onto the walls? Not as favoured in Asgard as in other realms. Loki squinted at some of the creatures he could make out, trying to name them. Though some looked familiar, none were of Asgard and he could not recall the realm of their origin.

Dismissing the mural as an insignificant oddity, he turned to the bathing pool dominating the centre of the room. He wasted little time in setting the pool to fill with hot water. The rush of steam hitting his face elicited a pleased noise in his throat and he reluctantly pulled himself away from the filling pool to strip off his armour.

Keeping the running water in sight, Loki stripped in brisk, efficient movements. Before long, every piece of his armour was set out neatly on a dressing table that ran half a length of wall. Loki carefully unfastened and pulled off his gators and set them on the table next to his chest plate before pulling off his boots, which he left on the floor. Finally, stripping off the simple tunic and leggings he wore under everything, Loki grimaced at the sudden awareness of their smell. Stinking of grime and sweat and blood and worse, he balled them up and tossed them against the wall where they landed in a heap half-hanging off the dressing table, threatening to slide to the floor.

Turning his back on his clothes, Loki returned to the rapidly filling pool and climbed in. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he sank into the pool. Blissfully hot water rushed to embrace every inch of him it could touch. He closed his eyes and breathed, overwhelmed with the feeling that comes with a long overdue bath. As the water shut itself off once the pool was full, Loki opened his eyes and began exploring the little shelves built into the sides of the pool to hold a wide assortment of soaps and scented oils. Here he found a mix of familiar and unfamiliar scents. Some he remembered keeping in his own bathing pool a lifetime ago. Others he sniffed and was hit with a sense he had smelled such a fragrance before - but nowhere on Asgard. His eyes drifted to the mural again. Vanaheim, perhaps?

After examining a number of vials, he found a pleasing enough scent to add to his water and set about lathing up his hands and rubbing soap into his skin. The feeling of clean prompted another groan of pleasure. With every pass of his soapy hands across the skin, Loki followed the path with his eyes. His skin was unblemished. This wasn't all surprising. Aesir...Loki always healed quickly and the mortals inflicted no damage of note. Still Loki felt a ripple of unease as his hand passed across his unmarked skin on his upper chest, near his left shoulder. Unease he could not pinpoint. Unease he felt again as he slid a hand down his right side. The skin there was also unmarked. Loki felt no discomfort when he pressed his fingers into his flesh, yet he could not dispel the sense that something was not right. He pushed aside the thought for another time and continued washing.

Once his skin was clean, Loki turned his attention to his hair. Stiff with the greasy substance he used to hold his hair in place, Loki had to soap and rinse his hair three times before it finally came clean. It was a far cry from the light, pleasant smelling hair oil he'd used in the past. Clean to his satisfaction, Loki leaned back against the wall of the bath a contented sigh. Surrounded by heated, fragrant water, hearing only the faint hum of the seidr that kept bath water clean and maintained the temperature, Loki felt limp. The heat worked its way deep into his muscles and he relaxed deeper against the wall. With another sigh, Loki closed his eyes.

 

*** * * * ***

 

"Blasted boy, what have you done with it?" Odin slammed his hand down on Loki's desk. The sharp crack echoed loud through the empty room. Odin pulled deep breaths through his nose while he gathered the reins on his temper. The missing book continued to elude him. Though he was positive he had never removed the book from his hidden room, he still searched fruitlessly through the contents of his own library. Before Frigga left his office earlier, Odin had told her of the missing book and his worry as to who may have removed it from its place.

"Why would Loki be interested in that one?" she had asked pointedly.

It was a question that weighed on his own mind. There was nothing outwardly special about that particular volume. Keeping with the tradition of his forefathers, Odin made no notes on the outside of his journals pertaining to dates. _Odin, son of Bor_ was all that was inscribed on the spines. He kept them on the shelf in the order they were written, again keeping with tradition. On the inside cover, he made brief notations as to the topics covered within each journal.

Four precious books contained all the information Odin could ever gather about the working Bor commissioned to imprison his wife, and Asgard's queen, Bestla. Three of the books Odin penned while his father was still alive and one after. When Bor still lived, Odin kept the journals in a hidden space behind one of the servant cupboards in his quarters. He kept them hidden even after Bor's death, removing them from the hiding spot of a prince to the one of a king only after he completed the fourth and final journal on the matter.

For the longest time after he completed the fourth journal, having learned everything he was able to about the most complex, layered working he had ever encountered then or since in any realm, Odin thought about burning them. There was nothing in them pertaining to his kingship and certainly no one would miss the loss, especially if Odin undid the casting. A young Odin refused to believe he would ever make use of the room's power. Even if he was ever faced with the horrible circumstances Bor had been, Odin was convinced he would make different choices. But to remove the casting was time and energy consuming. Following Bor's passing the early years of Odin's kingship were anything but smooth. He had not the time nor the energy to spare.

There was no one defining moment Odin could recall when he decided to leave well enough alone. As the years then centuries then millennia flowed past and with them the bespelled rooms with all their secrets fell further into history, it ceased to feel as necessary as it did when Odin was younger. Few left alive knew of its hidden purpose and there was no way to breathe life back into the dormant casting by accident. Odin began to think it best the secrets died with him. In the years he prepared Thor for kingship, Odin had never made any mention of the rooms or their true purpose. Even if he read the books after Odin passed on to Valhalla, Thor had not the training, nor the skill in seidr to understand them.

Odin admitted to Frigga the missing volume made several mentions of Jotunheim on the inside cover and he believed Loki may have taken it believing it to be the journal containing information on Asgard's last war. Information on Laufey. Information on the infant Odin found wailing in the snow. Frigga's face went tight as she informed him in no uncertain terms she had never laid eyes on it.

"And there is no book of Loki's I have not laid my eyes and hands upon in the past year."

Odin took her at her word. Yet as soon as he was free of his council and meetings and dealings with resurfaced Infinity Stones that should have remained lost he found himself in Loki's chambers searching through his belongings. He searched Loki's bookshelves, looked through drawers, examined every stray book scattered throughout the rooms. He even searched through Loki's dressing room. Odin came away with no found book, but wondered why the boy was in possession of so many capes? Odin owned three. Only one could be worn at a time.

He happened upon more than one hidden space within his son's rooms. Found things Loki should not have - and that Odin had every intention of removing before his son ever took up residence again - secreted away in them. Volatile fire crystals from Muspelheim suspended in an enchanted jar in a hollow behind a drawer of socks in his dressing room. A book of magicks written in so ancient a language it made Odin's head ache just from looking at it was behind an illusioned panel on the underside of Loki's desk. A pouch of crushed herbs from Alfheim useful in spellcasting that had the unfortunate side effect of causing their user's lungs to cease to function should they accidently be inhaled. That was stuffed inside the base of a hand-carved statue of Yggdrasil beside a sofa in his sitting room.  

But still Odin could not find one bloody book. The third journal. The journal Odin had worked on tirelessly, so certain he was on the cusp of finally understanding the casting. Dozens of trips away from Asgard, searching for answers. Tracking the few sorcerers who still eluded him across many realms. Discovering the pathways between worlds and learning to travel by them so he could come and go as he pleased without worry his extensive Bifrost travels would be discovered by Bor. He even traveled to Jotunheim in search of a sorcerer believed to be so powerful there was no magical casting of any kind in any realm she could not decipher. One slim volume of Odin's research that he was convinced as a youngster would be the key to bringing his mother peace. Instead it destroyed everything.

The sting of horror and shame still echoed in his heart millennia later. That book had proved him a bloody fool then. He'd be damned before he allowed it to do so again.

Frustration drove him back into Loki's study where Odin searched the shelves once more.

 

*** * * * ***

 

_Eyes._

_Eyes in the dark._

_Watching him._

Loki jerked awake on a gasp that quickly devolved into a coughing fit as water found its way into his nose. Splashing and coughing, Loki hauled himself out of the bath. He patted his skin dry quickly with one of the thick towels piled unobtrusively on a low bench next to the pool and squeezed the excess water from his hair with another. Ignoring the pile of dirty clothing he'd discarded, Loki peered into the attached dressing room, half expecting to see the contents of his own wardrobe within. It was empty.

Another mural covered two of the walls. Three waterfalls cascading down a tree covered mountainside, converging into a crystal lake at the base and edged with a field of of flowers. Familiarity niggled at the edge of Loki's mind. He'd seen this place once before. He was sure of it, but could not recall where. It was not Vanaheim, nor Alfheim. Not Jotunheim, obviously. He thought it must be one of Asgard's smaller territories. More beautifully etched glass covered another wall. Again Loki traced it with his fingers, willing himself elsewhere. He remained in the dressing room. As he turned away from the glass, he caught a small glimpse of his back. His smooth, unmarked back. Another flutter of unease slithered through his mind. He shoved it away.

Remembering Frigga's mention of clean clothes earlier, Loki wandered back out into the main room with the towel tucked around his waist. He found the basket she had left for him still sitting near the chaise he'd collapsed on earlier. Rifling through it, Loki unpacked a small stack of fresh clothing. He shook out and quickly pulled on a fresh tunic and pair of leggings. There were soft shoes included in the basket. Loki considered for a moment ignoring them in favour of his boots, but found the thought of putting his armour back on unappealing. There was no one present to be impressed by his appearance and assembling it all on his person without an aide or magic was tiresome. He dropped the soft shoes on the floor and stuffed his feet in them as he tied up the laces on the side of his leggings. Frigga had included one of his light lounging coats, but Loki spurred it for the moment. He wondered how much of his own wardrobe would end up within these rooms? How long would the dressing room remain empty?

How long would he be kept in here?

That Loki was not taken to the dungeons immediately upon his return to Asgard was surprisingly little comfort. Perhaps they simply needed time to prepare a cell that would hold him. Or perhaps they wouldn't let him live long enough to bother?

What was Odin going to do with him?

The outer swinging open jarred Loki out of his contemplations. Feeling exposed, he quickly grabbed up the overcoat and jammed his arms through it. It settled easily across his shoulders as his new guests entered the rooms.

It was Frigga returning as promised, with Eir in tow.

"Right in here. This is fine," Eir said to someone behind her.

Loki watched as a guard entered behind the women carrying a large chest. The guard set it down where Eir had indicated and bowed quickly to Frigga before leaving.

Loki could feel Frigga's eyes on him from the moment she entered the room. She smiled easily when he met her eyes. Back stiff, Loki greeted her and the woman who had treated his illnesses and healed his hurts for as long as he could remember.

Eir stood in front of her chest and inclined her head to him. "I am grateful to the Norns for seeing fit to return you to us, Prince Loki."

Loki's mouth twisted. "I thank you good lady, but I fear your gratitude is misplaced."

"Loki," Frigga said gently. "Eir has come to examine you."

"Oh?" Loki took a careful step back, putting more distance between himself and Eir. "Whatever for?" He looked down at himself, then back up to smile charmingly at them. "Clearly, I am unmaimed."

Frigga stepped closer. "You did not look well after your - the Allfather brought you home. You seemed feverish. You look much better now for having gained some rest, yes, but I would still be certain nothing ails you. After everything that's happened."

"I see. Well, then, let's make our way to the healing hall, shall we?" Loki flashed his best smile.

The women exchanged glances and Loki knew he was going nowhere.

"You're not permitted to leave these rooms, Loki," Frigga explained. "This is why I've brought Eir to you."

Eir turned to the chest she had brought in. With a hand motion the chest grew to waist-height and extended in length to become long enough for a person to lie on. Panels became visible on one side. Another hand motion and a door on the other side popped open. Eir began briskly unpacking its contents. Loki watched motionless as Eir finished removing the contents of the chest, all familiar looking healer's aides. She extended a small tray out from the side and began laying out her equipment.

"And if I refuse?" he asked calmly.

Frigga looked anguished. Eir paused in what she was doing and raised a single brow at him before responding. "And why would you do that?"

"I am not ill. I am not hurt. I do not require a healer."

Eir's brow went higher. "Spent your time away training to be a healer, did you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Eir gave him a look that promised him a losing battle. "Surely your skill in healing would have advanced greatly indeed since last I saw you if it's now so much more attuned than mine."

Loki folded his hands behind his back and drew his chin up. "Eir, I do not require your aid," he informed her.

Eir turned to face him directly and drew up her own chin. "Prince Loki, with all respect, it is my task to determine that. Not yours. Now please, come and lie down."

He tried not to look at Frigga's pained expression as he considered his options. Loki thought of refusing still. Of retreating to another room, closing the door, and refusing to come out. Surely that would be the end of it?

Eir's gaze on him was unyielding. Loki could not remember a single time in his life where he successfully evaded Eir when she set her sights on him. Even for small injuries he could and did heal himself, she would summon him to her halls to inspect his hurts for herself. Once he went to Alfheim for a week to avoid a trip to the healing halls after he healed a broken bone in his wrist. Upon his return, Eir was standing in the Observatory waiting for him.

"Loki," Frigga pleaded.

"Fine!" he snapped. He crossed the room and threw himself on the healing table. He folded his arms across his chest in defiance.

"Please keep your arms down at your sides," Eir said pleasantly, picking up a scanning wand.

Loki made a disgruntled sound and did as she asked.

 

*** * * * ***

 

"What are you doing?"

Odin glanced over at Thor standing nearby. He had not heard him come in. "I am looking for a book I believe was last in your brother's possession."

Thor looked pointedly at the floor to ceiling bookshelves lining the walls, then back at his father.

"Yes, yes, I have already searched them," Odin said testily. "The book I seek is not here." Odin gave Thor a searching look. _Ah. He's still angry._ "What is it, Thor?"

"Why did you say what you did to your council?" Thor demanded, brimming with frustration. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Odin was in little mood to be lectured by his heir yet again. "Why don't we skip this step and you simply tell me what I've done wrong now."

Thor's nostrils flared once before he exploded. "You all but told your council Loki has gone mad! They all expect to never see him again. That he'll be hidden away from the eyes of Asgard for the rest of his days."

"Oh? Is that what I did?"

"Isn't it? What do you think will happen now you've told them such a thing? When news of this spreads across the realms, no one will ever look at Loki the same again. How can you do that to him?"

"Thor," Odin said mildly. "Are you suggesting my council does not hold their king's confidence? That what is discussed in that chamber is fodder for gossip in every tavern throughout Yggdrasil? Think carefully now before you answer."

He waited while Thor fumed and paced around Loki's study to sort out his thoughts. "No," Thor said finally, stopping his pacing to stand before Odin. "I do not think the king's counsellors are so disloyal as to spread gossip. But Loki was seen when you brought him home. Word is spreading he has returned. What are people to think, knowing Loki is home and yet they never see him? Father, what were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking?" Odin sighed, weary. "A great many things, in fact."

He walked past Thor out of the study and into the adjacent sitting room. Odin lowered himself in a cushy, overstuffed chair. He caught Thor's questioning eye and jerked his chin the chair across from him. After a moment's hesitation, Thor crossed the room, bypassing the chair Odin had indicated, and dropped heavily into the chair closest to Odin. Thor's ease in seating himself in that particular chair made Odin think it was his usual seat when visiting his brother. Vili did the same thing when he came to visit. Always sat in the same chair. Odin did the same when visiting Vili's home.

Odin shifted to better see Thor before speaking. "What was I thinking when I informed my council Loki was home, but hinted something may be amiss? Well, my son, I was thinking Loki was lost to us for a year. A year when we did not know where he was or what he was doing. Or whom he may have encountered."

Thor looked at him sharply, but did not interrupt.

"I was thinking he reappeared at the head of a strange, foreign army and attempted to invade another realm," Odin said. "Midgard, of all places. I was thinking Loki has been less than forthcoming about where he has been and what he's been doing."

Thor leaned forward far enough to rest his elbows on his legs and clasped his hands. "He hasn't told you anything?"

Odin answered with an unamused chuckle. "Oh, your brother has told me a number of things. Some of them may even be true. Some are most decidedly not. I expect it may take time to sort the fact from the fiction."

"Yet you lock him up in the meantime," Thor pointed out.

Odin leaned back and studied Thor with a challenging look. "Were you not the one only days ago insisting Loki ought to be punished for his crimes?"

"Yes," Thor was firm. "And I still hold to it. But I meant fairly. With a trial and a judgement. Not locked away in some enchanted rooms while you hint at his madness to your council. How does that help?"

Odin made a considering sound . "So you think I should just go upstairs, throw open the doors and let Loki roam at will? Freely answer whatever questions put to him? What do suppose would happen, Thor? Hmm? I know you've spoken to him since his return. What do you think he may say?"

Thor's face went stormy, betraying his answer before he spoke. "Probably whatever he thinks will enrage people the most."

"Precisely. People will not look kindly upon him then. You think me cruel to lock him away and let no one save his family near him? Maybe I am. I do not care. I have been thinking on nothing else but how best to protect him since I brought him home lacking answers to the many, many questions I have. He will remain there until I have answers that I find satisfactory. Where he is now is safe. Safe for him, safe for Asgard. If people choose to amuse themselves with mindless gossip, then let them."

"Since he would be the topic, I think Loki would disagree."

Odin scoffed. "Let's not pretend your brother has never been the subject of gossip before. Nor that he's not been the instigator of many a rumour. Some rather infamous ones at that."

"The one about me in a dress marrying a giant to retrieve Mjolnir was rather good," Thor smiled at the memory.  

Odin laughed despite himself. "I seem to recall you did not find it particularly amusing at the time."

Thor shrugged. "It got funnier after a century or so."

"Many things do, my son."

Thor smiled without it reaching his eyes. His gaze dropped to his hands.

"What else troubles you?" Odin asked.

"There have always been stories," Thor was hesistant. "Wild tales about things that lurk out in the Void. The madness that lingers in those who touch it."

Odin waited for Thor to continue, but Thor remained quiet and twisting at his fingers. "There have," he said. "Whether these stories have any measure of truth to them is not well known, though that's never stopped the speculation. Truthfully, when I informed the council days ago that Loki had survived the fall and was on Midgard, I was relieved many assumed he must have gotten there unharmed. I had hoped when I found Loki, he could be reasoned with. That he would listen and give up without a fight and come home. It would have made his homecoming that much easier."

Thor raised his brows and gave Odin a skeptical look. "Loki never does anything the easy way."

Of that Odin was painfully aware. Even the act that set things in motion leading to the current situation, letting Jotuns into Asgard to disrupt Thor's coronation, was ridiculously risky. As far as Odin could piece together, Loki left everything in his plan to chance. He showed them a pathway into Asgard hoping it would be used by only a few during a particular time. That they would reach the weapons vault at the exact time the guards were walking through on their regular patrol was also left to chance. Loki had shook and thrown his runes up in the air and walked away without seeing how they landed. It wasn't the first time Loki had done something foolish with little regard for the consequences, but never before had he done something so utterly reckless and deadly.

"That is true," Odin agreed. "But I still have hope, Thor. Hope your brother will find his reason again. I am not locking him away and forgetting he exists. Nor am I ignoring what he has done. I am sorry to say I do not know what will happen. Whether Loki gets a trial will depend on whether he is even fit to have one, as well as his answers to the questions I still have. I will continue to gather those answers. I hope to get some from your brother, but if not, I will find them regardless. It just may take longer. You will have to be patient, Thor. I know how much you hate that."

Thor looked chagrined, but took the criticism without objection. "I have my own questions I seek answers to, Father. But just having him back, knowing he's alive, I think now I could wait a thousand years for those answers."

Odin nodded. "I expect you can if you put your mind to it. I, however, do not have another thousand years left in me. I will have my answers long before then, I promise you."

"I believe you."

Thor smiled at him, this one hitting his eyes and lighting up his features. The kind of smile he was famous for. Odin couldn't help but return it before bracing his hands on the arms of the chair to push himself to his feet. His knees creaked in protest as he straightened up, not so subtly reminding him of his age. Odin watched as Thor rose to his own feet in one, smooth motion and tried not to envy him his youth or his good knees.

They fell into step with each other, making their way silently through Loki's chambers. When they were nearing the doors to the outside hall, Thor stopped. His face a storm of conflict. Odin waited for him to sort out his thoughts and voice the questions that weighed on him.

"When I visited Loki earlier," Thor spoke quietly, as though fearing censure, "we exchanged words, and I tried to strike him. And..."

"And you could not land the blow," Odin finished for him.

Thor blinked in surprise. "Yes, how did you...?"

"Those rooms are enchanted for more than the purpose of keeping Loki within its walls, Thor. When I said it would keep him safe, I meant just that. No physical harm can befall him there, by his own hand or others."

Thor's confusion was plain. "I don't understand. How does that work?"

"How did it feel?" Odin asked.

Thor gave it some thought. "Like...like an invisible hand grabbed hold of my arm and held me fast before it pushed me back. It released me only when I wanted to drop my arm down. When I no longer wanted to hit him." His brow furrowed, still puzzled. "How did you cast such a spell? And when? I don't understand how you knew you would need it?"

Odin turned back to the entranceway. "I didn't, Thor. It was already there."

"What? How? For how long?"

"Many years. Since I was about your age. Younger, actually." Odin reached the doors and gestured for them to open.

Thor caught up and stared at the side of his head. "But why?"

The doors swung open and Odin started toward them. He paused for a step, turning back to face Thor. "That is a very long story. One I will tell you, but not this day."

Suspicion danced across Thor's features as his mind worked. Odin could see him furiously trying to remember his studies of history, of Bor's reign, and the time period before Odin became king. "Those chambers are part of the royal family's residences. Though we've never made use of them. Loki isn't the first occupant, is he?"

"No."

"Who had those rooms spelled?"

"My father." Odin could see he was only confirming what Thor had figured out for himself. He waited for the question he knew would follow.

"Why? What possible reason could he have had to need such a thing?"

"The same one I have, my son. To protect someone he loved."

 


	14. The Return VI

_Little frostling. We are not done. You cannot hide._

Loki woke on a strangled gasp to darkness. He could not remember where he was. Reaching for his magic, he grasped only its absence. For a moment Loki could not breathe for the terror. Awareness of his surroundings filtered through his mind by degrees.

Lying on a flat surface. Soft. Warm. He could move with ease. Nothing was holding him down. He could sit upright, the blankets easily pushed away. He was fully dressed, save for his bare feet. On his right was a tall, open window that lent the room dim light. He could see the sky beyond. Stars. Moons. The outline of mountains in the distance stretching up to meet the sky. His eyes adjusted and he saw not just one window, but many lining the wall on his right and covered over with fabric that blocked out the light. The other walls of the spacious room were awash in shadows and starlight.

_Runes. On the walls. Lighting up. The feeling of a thick, dark cloak being dropped over him. Smothering. Then nothing. Alive, but dead._

_Not an unfamiliar feeling._

Memory returned and Loki breathed deeply, savouring the sweetness of fresh, plentiful air. It smelled like home. His eyes stung. He remembered leaving the one window closest to the bed uncovered before lying down. Just like he always did. Before.

Loki rubbed at his eyes, confusion clouding his mind. He remembered lying down on the bed, stretching out on top of the covers. The sun had not yet fully set. But he also remembered falling asleep while looking at Asgard's constellations, remembering the names and stories told to him about them as a child. The Shining Warrior, thrown into the sky by a mighty enemy but never ceding battle, returning each night in pursuit of greater enemies. The Mighty Oxen, always plowing the fertile soils of Yggdrasil to keep the realms strong. The Brave One, stars that took the form of a child running, dagger in hand, preparing to face the unknown.

_"How do you know he's brave, Papa? What if he's running because he's afraid?"_

_"See how he runs across the sky without looking back? The Warrior is behind him, as is the Great Mother. But ahead of him lies the Rampager and the Blood Fields and the Unknown Seas, as well as many other dangerous paths. We know not where he intends to go, but he faces what's ahead with courage. He does not turn back to the safety that fills the sky behind him."_

Renewed anger pulsed through him.

Loki kicked his feet free of the bed covers with more force than necessary as he climbed out of bed. An unthinking gesture was followed by another rush of fresh fury when the room remained dark. Loki slapped at a bedside panel and the wall sconces began lighting themselves one by one. Loki fumbled with the panel to prevent them all from lighting. There was a moment of confusion while he reacquainted himself with manual controls he'd not used since he was a child. Learning to control the lights in the nursery with magic had been one of the earliest lessons Frigga taught him. For years after, Loki drove his caregivers, and Thor, to distraction by manipulating the lights when he should have been asleep. When he and Thor grew old enough to be separated and given rooms of their own, Thor joked he could hardly sleep with the lights remaining off throughout the night.

Another futile gesture and another rush of anger before he relearned the controls that swept the windows free of their draperies, recessing them into hidden panels along the window edges. Loki found the soft shoes he wore the previous day set neatly on the floor by the bed. He looked at them, puzzled. He was sure they had still been on his feet when he'd laid down for a rest.

_Rest, that was all he meant to do._

He remembered staring at unfamiliar stars before falling asleep.

_Starlight on the wall._

His eyes swept the room. _There._ Covering the wall facing the bed was another mural. This one depicted an ivory and green cliffside next to a crashing sea, both dominated by a clear azure sky. Loki reached for the bedside controls again, closing the draperies and extinguishing the lights. After the room plunged back into darkness, the mural changed to show the same scene with a night sky. A night sky full of stars and a single, pale moon.

Memory rushed back. Loki remembered dropping down on the bed and trying to sleep. For all the exhaustion pulling at him, there was too much light in the room. He remembered the same frustration of not being able to dim any of the lights making him want to scream before he found the panel. He remembered putting out the lights and covering all the windows except for the one. He remember kicking off his shoes and flopping back on the bed before being mesmerized by the sight of the mural changing from day to night before him. He had stared at those stars, sure he knew them before his eyes finally drifted shut. Loki even remembered waking later to the sight of Asgard's stars shining in on him and pulling a blanket over himself as he watched them before falling back to sleep.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. Breathed deep and steady to push back at the fog that permeated his mind. He remembered now. That's all that mattered. He must have been more tired than he realized, Loki reasoned. It made his thinking slow. The past few months had been long.

Reaching for his shoes, Loki stumbled while trying to put them on. He leaned against the bed to regain his balance as his vision suddenly swam. His stomach clenched unhappily. He hadn't eaten since... His vision swam again and Loki sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. One of his mortals, the archer, had brought him food on Midgard. Subs, he'd called them. They looked like regular meat sandwiches to Loki. But he didn't touch them. There'd been too much to do. Loki had too much to do. He couldn't fail.

_Oh, but he did fail._

He wondered what the price would be for that failure. And who would extract it. Loki laughed, soft and bitter.

_There may be a line._

Glancing out at the stars still dotting the sky told him day had not yet broke. But soon. Another hour before the sun would rise on the other side of the palace. Over the Bifrost. _Whatever's left of it._

His stomach made itself known again.

There was food in the next room. Frigga had brought more in before she and Eir left his company. They'd both encouraged him to eat. He'd turned his back on the tray and retreated into the sleeping chamber instead.

Loki stood carefully, keeping one hand wrapped around one of the ornately carved bed posts until he was certain he would keep his feet. Perhaps the food was still there. Perhaps he could eat a little before it was taken away. Even as he made his way to the door the next room, Loki told himself sternly it didn't matter if the food was still there. He wasn't hungry.

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

Baldur arrived early to the warriors barracks on the palace grounds. He'd woken earlier than normal from a restless sleep and ventured out after a quick meal. The grounds did not see many warriors so early in the day. Baldur hoped he might find at least one to spar with as a way to focus himself. He had no morning classes scheduled. Tyr had called an early morning meeting for his commanders and training masters. There'd been no reason given, but it was unusual for the masters and commanders to all be meeting at once. Baldur was curious to find out what it was about.

His parents had not yet risen when Baldur left their house and set off across the city. Part of his early morning departure had to do with trepidation over his father's mood. Baldur's father was not a man quick to anger and upset, yet Vili had returned home the previous day in a temper that saw him slamming into the house and disappearing into his study without so much as a greeting for his wife and son. Fulla left Baldur to finish preparing their evening their meal while she went to check on him. Baldur had heard little beyond the murmur of voices once she entered the study, his father's voice rising more than one before going silent. When Baldur's mother finally emerged it was with as false a smile as Baldur had ever seen on her.

"What happened?" Baldur had asked.

She hesitated before answering. "Something at the council meeting. It'll be all right."

Baldur hadn't challenged her lie. They ate just the two of them and passed the evening in quiet. The study door remaining closed all the while. When Baldur retired to his own chambers for the night, his father still hadn't come out.

As expected, when Baldur arrived at the training grounds he found them sparsely populated. There were a few other early-risers about undergoing warm up drills. Baldur bypassed the training master's building, having no desire to see what paperwork may have accumulated on his desk since he was last there yesterday. He ducked into the main building to collect some gear before heading out to the grounds to find someone alert enough to fight before the sun had yet fully risen.

As he stood in front of the weapons racks, there was a voice to his left. "Now there's a sight that hasn't been seen around these parts in a time."

Baldur's head snapped up at the appearance of the man who had sidled up to him without making a sound. Suddenly alert, he looked around the spacious room to see what else he had missed.

Gathered on the other side of the room, heads bend together as they spoke low enough to not be overheard, was none other than the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif. Baldur's eyebrows rose at the sight even as his friend leaned his back against the equipment wall, his legs kicked out before him and crossed at the ankle with his arms folded across his chest.

"Aye," Baldur said to Hod. "I didn't think they were even allowed to be in the same room together anymore."

Hod's bright eyes turned to him. "I thought you said you didn't know what happened?"

Baldur shrugged. "I don't. Just guessing." He wasn't lying. He knew no more than anyone else among the ranks of the king's warriors about what had happened. Just that one day last year the four warriors were called before the king, and the next thing anyone knew they had all given new assignments. Assignments that were greatly at odds with the casual, anything-goes status they once enjoyed as the favoured of their crown prince.

Fandral's assignment alone as Tyr's personal aide spoke of punishment. Only those who'd displeased their commanders were sent to serve in that office. Hod himself had once suffered from such an assignment and had been giving Tyr a wide-berth ever since. Hogun disappeared from the warrior grounds altogether, sparking rumours that he had been banished from their ranks. Volstagg now served exclusively as Thor's aide which seemed to include letting Thor trounce him in the sparring rings whenever it pleased him.

Then there was Lady Sif. At times as constant a presence on the training fields of Asgard's warriors as those who worked there, she'd all but vanished from the city. Sent away to serve in the North, a posting normally filled with young warriors too inexperienced to be trusted to serve elsewhere. In the past year, Baldur had heard ill-advised and humourless jokes in the barracks from older warriors about the king having finally "put that woman in her place." Remarks Baldur met with stern glares and pointed remarks about the value of warriors who did not respect the greater abilities of others. Hod had pointed out that Baldur never resembled his uncle more than in those moments.

"They are lucky it was me who heard them instead of Thor. Otherwise they'd be busy picking up their teeth off the ground," he'd responded.

Baldur did not count himself one of Lady Sif's admirers, but he could not discount the fact she still had many. Including in his classes. His youngest class of students was made up of fifteen males and two maidens. Baldur made a practice of interviewing all of his students before letting them into his classes. When he spoke to the two little maids, they'd both informed him bluntly they wanted to be warriors "just like the Lady Sif." Baldur had no doubt they would be. And that they would not be the last maidens seeking to join the ranks of Asgard's warriors.

Hod sighed dramatically. "Nephew of the king and you don't even bother to abuse the position to get information the rest of us really want to know. How typical."

A laugh escaped Baldur unbidden. Loud enough the other occupants of the room took notice of him. Baldur met their gazes unconcerned. All rumours aside, their affairs were of no interest to him. He didn't know any of them very well. All of them were great fighters, though Baldur had always thought they wasted too much of their talent going off on foolish quests with his cousins. In the privacy of their home, Baldur's father had remarked on more than one occasion his worry that the kings sons were too undisciplined. Over his lifetime, Baldur found he agreed with assessment. Though he got along well enough with both his older cousins, Baldur did not count either of them as friends. He thought them reckless at times and governed by too few rules, though Baldur did think Loki the more serious of the two. It was a strange dichotomy in the Allfather. As king, Odin was ruthless and unbending like no other. As father, his sons did as they pleased without consequence.

_Right up until the two of them went haring off to Jotunheim and almost sparked a new war. Idiots._

The other group were the first to look away as they moved almost as one toward the exits. Fandral offered Baldur a quick nod before leaving. Baldur returned it mildly as he and Hod watched them leave.

Hod groaned as he laboriously pulled himself off the wall. "One day, my friend. One day we'll solve the mystery. Or at least I will. I'll win the warrior's betting pool and drinks will be on me. Who knows, I may even invite you."

The next laugh came more easily as Baldur patting Hod's shoulder. "I will surely hold my breath in anticipation. In the meantime, since you're here, spar with me."

"Don't you have more important things to do? Like telling your dearest, most faithful and loyal friend what all this business is with your cousin? You know, the one who's supposed to be dead and yet rumours around here insist is not? The discussion grew quite fierce after you left yesterday. Especially after the change of guard. No one could agree on a thing. We had to take it elsewhere. The taverns were especially busy all night."

Baldur selected one of the blunted edged training swords. After finding it to his liking, he held it out to Hod. "I swear, with the stories that rise from these grounds, warriors gossip more fervently than old women in a weaving circle. Have not any of you better things to do?"

"I can't speak for anyone else, but no. I don't." Hod took the sword Baldur offered. "I don't suppose you'll let me win this match, but if I do, will you at least tell me if Loki's alive?"

"He is. And keep it to yourself. The king hasn't made a statement yet. And when have you ever gotten the upper hand over me?"

"Well, there was that one time with the mistletoe."

Baldur smacked him with the hilt of the sword he had chosen even as he snorted with laughter at Hod's gall.

Long ago when Baldur was still a youth, he visited one of the less respectable taverns on the edge of the city, though he had not known of its reputation at the time. He simply loved exploring and curiosity pulled him in and out of shops and taverns all over the city for many years. In this particular tavern, Baldur had barely had time for his eyes to adjust from the outside light than he was caught up in a terrific brawl. Men were swearing, women screeching, and chairs were flying.

Before Baldur had a chance to hurry back out into the safety of the street, a body slammed into him and sent him crashing to the sticky floor. Baldur had not hesitated to shove the stranger off of him and was alarmed to find the other man was not only armed with a spear, but that he was holding it in way that if he had hit him at a lower angle, Baldur would have been impaled on it.

"Are you mad? You always carry a spear in a tavern?" Baldur had shouted, still seated on the floor and poking his finger through the newly sliced hole in his tunic along the shoulder.

"I do in this one," the man had said in a manner that suggested Baldur was the strange one for asking.

Baldur looked away from his wrecked shirt to study the stranger who did not look much older than he. Then he looked at oddly fashioned spear the other youth was still holding and narrowed his eyes. "What manner of spear it that? What is it made out of?"

"Mistletoe," the stranger had said, still as though Baldur was a fool for making him state the obvious.

"Why?" Baldur asked reasonably.

The stranger grinned, pulling himself to his feet and holding a hand out to pull Baldur up. "Why not?"

They had been friends ever since.

"Loki lives! Great news! Think the Allfather will declare it a holiday? I hope so. I could use a day off." Hod fell in step with Baldur as they made their way out to the training grounds.

Baldur didn't respond. But he did wonder. After his death the prior year, Odin declared Loki one of Asgard's great heroes. There had been feast after feast in the aftermath of Loki's death celebrating Loki's name and his last stand fight against Laufey and his invaders. To Asgard, having a hero returned to them in the defiance of death was an event that should see celebration the likes of which Baldur had never seen, save for perhaps Thor's aborted coronation.

Baldur wondered why Odin still remained silent.

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

"You found nothing?"

Odin was incredulous and made no attempt to hide it. He had steeled himself to hear whatever was to come when the healer sent word she was ready to report her findings, but this? This was not what he expected.

Eir's eyes widened in the face of his reaction, her face remaining smooth and calm. "I beg your pardon my king," she said, "but you asked me to examine Prince Loki's health and well-being to the best of my ability. I have done so."

"And you found nothing amiss?"

Eir was puzzled. "Was there something I should have been looking for? The queen mentioned traces of a fever. It had released its grip by the time I examined him. There was no other signs of illness or injury."

"You are sure?" Odin pressed.

Eir's jaw tightened. "I can summon another healer to review my findings if his majesty wishes," she said stiffly.

Odin bit back a grimace. "No, no. I do not doubt your skill." It was true. Eir had served as a royal  healer for many long centuries. Odin would be hard-pressed to name anyone else he trusted with the health and well-being of his family as much as he trusted her.

"You were expecting to hear something else," she noted.

"Of course, I am gratified to know Loki is in good health," Odin said, sidestepping Eir's blunt observation.

But he had been expecting something else. Anything else, if truth to told. He was ready to act upon whatever it was Eir discovered that plagued his son. Something that would explain what drove the behaviour on Midgard and at home. The confusion was disturbing enough, and the unrelenting anger was unsettling. Odin wanted something that would grant him a clear path of action to take.

Three times Frigga had visited Loki in the two days since his return to Asgard, the most recent being earlier that morning. She had risen, dressed, and been away before Odin had been fully awake. They'd spoken little before retiring for the night other than Frigga relaying her observations of Eir's examination and Loki's unhappy reaction to it.

Odin had taken his time preparing for his day, stretching out his bath and morning meal longer than he normally did. Taking in the solace and time for thinking before the need came to steel himself and walk out the door as Asgard's king. He had just finished dressing when Frigga returned from seeing Loki. Her eyes reddened and smile strained.

"What happened?" he had asked upon seeing her face.

Her voice had wavered before she answered, "He does not eat. He leaves his food untouched. I tried to coax him into sharing a meal with me. He agreed, but Odin, he didn't even touch his plate."

Odin frowned at that. Loki had been stubborn about his food as a child. Many a time sitting with his mouth pressed shut and arms folded, radiating defiance, in the face of a dish he'd decided was not to his liking. It was a stark contrast to his brother who ate anything and everything that was put in front of him. Odin thought Loki had long grown out of such fussiness. And he knew all the food being sent to Loki now were dishes he favoured. He and Frigga both made sure of it.

"And he is frustrated," she continued. "Upset by the manner of his imprisonment. Whatever his future holds, please make it clear to him quickly. It does him no good to be left to imagine the worst."

Odin had made a non-committal noise in turn that turned her forced smile into a tight, flat line. He fled their chambers for his office before she could say anything else only to find a message from Eir awaiting him.

Odin tapped a finger on the top of his desk while he considered what Eir was telling him. "And his experience has not left him harmed - in any way?" he asked, pushing his earlier encounter with his wife aside in his mind while eyeing Eir for a reaction. Eir returned his regard for a steady, watchful look of her own.

"He is clearly exhausted," she said. "To an extent I do find disturbing. He needs food and rest. I would recommend as much of both as possible."

"His mother says he does not eat."

Eir raised her brows. "Loki needs food. Perhaps his exhaustion has pushed him to the point where he no longer can recognize his hunger. I have seen this sort of thing before, though normally in those who spent too long at war. I will prepare a list of suggestions to get him eating to submit to the queen."

Odin nodded his thanks. His mind working over what Eir was telling him. "Did he say what happened?" Odin mulled over what Frigga had said of the visit. He was sure she would have mentioned it if Loki told Eir anything of importance. She'd said only that Loki had been quiet.

"He did not," Eir said, not looking happy about it. "I asked about his experiences before Midgard, whether he encountered any beings who may have carried illness or other maladies I ought to be concerned about. He looked at me as though I was mad. I also asked him if he could account for the time he's been away from Asgard as a way to test his memory, but he was even less forthcoming. He would not answer any such questions. Not even from the queen."

Odin tried to hide his disappointment, but wasn't too surprised. Loki had always been uncommonly good at evading questions he didn't want to answer, even as a youth. Frigga had always insisted he learned the behaviour from Odin. Once upon a time, Odin found this amusing. Although in the past Loki's evasiveness usually took the form of talking circles around the question - and the questioner - rather than refusing to answer.

"But my king," Eir continued. "There is one other thing I must tell you regarding Loki's injuries."

Odin stared at her. "You said he was uninjured."

"He is."

"Explain."

She did.

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

"Greetings, Thor."

Thor wasn't quiet on his approach to the broken edge of Bifrost where Heimdall kept his post. Even after the many years he'd known Heimdall, he found it off-putting how the watchman always knew who approached at his back.

"Heimdall," Thor returned to the greeting. He stepped up to stand at Heimdall's shoulder. Heimdall didn't acknowledge Thor further, keeping his eyes sweeping across the unseen stars laid out around them. Thor looked out as well. To his eyes, he saw clear skies, the sun and the shadow of Asgard's closest moon, not yet out of sight for the day. He wondered what it must be like to see the lives of those who lived on all the far away worlds. When the stars were visible in the skies, Thor saw simply their beauty. He wondered if there was any such beauty in the view Heimdall had.

"You met with the king after his return," Thor said.

"I did," Heimdall said easily. "As did you, and many others."

"Yes." Thor turned the previous day's meetings over in his head. His first meeting with Odin in his office, the council meeting, his confusing discussion with Odin in Loki's chambers.

His visit with Loki.

Thor swallowed back anger at how poorly the reunion went. Anger at himself. There were many things Thor wanted to say to his brother, not all of them pleasant, but his hope was to reconcile with him. To mend the bond that once existed between them. Thor was embarrassed at how easily Loki goaded him into trying to attack him. It had been many years since Loki was so open in his attempts to prod Thor into actions their parents would deem unwise.

_But Loki never stopped prodding did he? He just became more subtle at it._

Thor looked away from sunny, morning sky to the man he came to see. Did Heimdall see his fight with Loki, he wondered? Did Odin instruct him to keep watch over Loki still?

"You have something you wish to ask me, Odinson. Ask," Heimdall invited.

Thor gathered his thoughts. "You saw Loki before he went to Midgard," he began.

"I did."

"You kept watch over him and the Chitauri the whole time."

"Yes."

"You watch them now still?"

An almost imperceptible nod. "I do. As I have told Odin."

"And what do you see, Heimdall?"

"As I have told the king, the Chitauri can not move without their portal or their master. Midgard is safe."

"And just who is the Chitauri's master?" Contrary to what Loki had accused him in the past, Thor did know how to listen. Angry and confused as he had been in prior days, Thor listened to everything Odin told him and was said in the meetings he attended. He also listened to the things that were going unsaid. Thor had been thinking about those things almost non-stop. It disrupted his sleep enough Thor rose in the middle of the night to write down all the things that stuck in his mind. He made a list of what he didn't understand and another list of the questions that plagued him.

Thor was sure Asgard's king did not consider the matter of the attempted invasion of Midgard closed. Not with Heimdall still keeping watch over the invading force, hindered as they were by a lack of access to their intended target. Not when Odin was closeted in a meeting with Tyr the day of his return that lasted nearly an hour according to Fandral, and resulted in Tyr calling a meeting of his commanders and training masters for today. As far as Thor knew, it was still ongoing. He had left Volstagg lingering in the hall outside of the meeting. Thor knew he had only to be patient to find out what was discussed.

There was also the matter of Loki's sceptre. The one Loki used to subjugate the will of others. A weapon of great power that was in Loki's possession from the time he entered the portal to reach Midgard. The weapon Thor had not laid eyes on once since Loki's return. The Tesseract was residing in the Weapons Vault, left to be studied by Asgard's scholars and builders in the hopes of using it to rebuild what Thor had broken a year ago. He didn't regret doing what had to be done to stop Loki's attack on Jotunheim, but Asgard had relied on its easy connections to the other realms for a very long time. They had enough resources to keep themselves fed and well cared for, but the strain of having been cut off from the reliable flow of goods from other realms was beginning to set in. And there were still people stranded, both in Asgard and abroad. Many desperately wanted to return to their homes and families. For their sakes, Thor hoped the Bifrost could be restored quickly. But the sceptre? Thor knew it returned to Asgard with Odin and Loki but where it ended up he did not know. Nor did he understand the nature of the weapon his brother used against the mortals or how it came to Loki's hand.

Heimdall turned his head to study him. Thor returned his searching gaze unflinching. A smile tugged at the corner of Heimdal's mouth. "An interesting question you ask me."

"I notice your answer is not Loki."

"I have not yet given an answer."

"I think you have."

Heimdall's smile grew as he turned back to his watch. "I have been bidden by my king to speak of what I see in this matter to no one except for him."

"And what of Loki," Thor pressed. There was a puzzle before him. Or more aptly, a knot. A great, tangled mess made up of more threads than Thor could follow. One that Loki was a part of. How much of the knot Loki was responsible for making, Thor did not know, but he was unwilling to back away until he saw it undone and with the path of its threads laid out to follow.

And Thor would follow those threads wherever they led to get his answers.

Heimdall turned his head just enough to eye him. Thor again met his gaze unblinking. Heimdall looked away.

"Your brother bears watching, Thor," Heimdall said with an undertone Thor could not read. "Closely. For many reasons."

Thor waited several long moments to see if Heimdall would say more. When the watchman remained silent, Thor retreated from the broken edge of his world and began the long walk home. His list of questions growing longer with every step.

 

**End of Part 3.**

 


	15. Sayeth the King I

**PART 4  - Sayeth the King**

 

Vicious, icy wind bit at Odin's exposed face. No matter how tightly he secured the hood of his cloak, he could not keep the wind from sweeping beneath the folds to attack his numb ears. Fierce gusts kept threatening to knock him over and sweep him away. He could no longer feel his hands within their fur-lined gloves. With every step his feet threatened to slip out from under him. Blowing snow caked his beard and kept him half-blind no matter how how well he tried to shield his eyes. He could hear nothing beyond the wind's howls. Blinded and deafened to his surroundings, for all Odin knew he was at that very moment being tracked by entire packs of the great ice beasts he heard populated this realm.

What an inglorious end that would make - Prince Odin of Asgard, son of Bor, eaten by dire wolves while searching for a sorceress in Jotunheim.

Odin half-laughed in dismay, what little sound escaping his throat was ripped away and carried off by another screaming blast of wind. Bor would be furious beyond words if he knew what his son was attempting to do.

_I wouldn't have to if only he would listen.  He never listens._

A familiar stab of resentment flooded through his veins and gave Odin a burst of renewed energy and determination. He planted his boot firmly one more step up the steep incline and shifted his weight to pull himself upward just as his other foot lost its purchase. Odin lost his hold and fell hard, his unfeeling hands doing little to cushion him on snow so packed down and frozen it was like a sheet of ice beneath him. Spitting inventive curses as he slid, Odin flailed his hands and feet to find a hold. His frozen hand caught at small dip in the ground and he grasped at it frantically before finding enough purchase to bring himself to a stop.

Odin lay face-down while trying to catch his breath. It proved impossible with the wind whipping each breath away from him before he finished breathing it. He struggled to push himself up, finding his knees first before shakily getting to his feet. He looked back up the steep incline he'd just slid down, trying to judge just how much distance he'd lost. He saw little of the icy mountain he stood upon. When Odin had been farther down the slope, he could see the dense, shimmering woods that marked his destination above the sparsely covered base of the mountain. Before he started out, he judged he could cover the distance in two days, perhaps three if the weather turned poorly.  

The weather had turned its wrath against him almost from the start. As if something was keeping him from where he wanted to go. What began as a steady, not particularly steep, upward slope across the snow now had the feel of trying to scale a glacier with no equipment other than a pair of sturdy boots. Odin looked around him, studying the ground beneath his feet.

Exactly like scaling a glacier.

Where Odin would have sworn on his own life there had not been one before. When he stood at the base of this mountain days prior, tracing the route upward he would follow to reach the woods, Odin saw no glacier. He would have found a different route if he had.

If he'd breath to spare, Odin would have laughed.

Several days had passed since he set out from the little village in the valley close to the base of the mountain and the pass that would take him up. The people he met there were kind enough, if bewildered as to why an Aesir was travelling alone across their lands. They assumed he must be lost and offered him shelter and food, as well as a guide to help him find his way back to the nearest city. When Odin offered his assurances he was not lost and explained where he was going, they had reacted with horror.

"No, no, small one. You mustn’t go there," one of the village elders told him.

"Why?"

"There lives a terrible witch in those woods. Wicked, unnatural creature. Fall into her hands and you will meet only your doom."

Annoyed, Odin had arrogantly insisted he knew what he was doing. The elder pressed his lips together in a familiar expression. Odin's mother often wore a similar look when she was annoyed with his or his father's stubbornness. His guts ached at how long it had been since he'd last seen that look on her face even as he straightened his back in the face of the Jotun elder's disapproval.

"Do not enter the witch's wood. You know not what will befall you if you go there." Some of villagers watching the exchange nodded their agreement. Others appeared uninterested in the outcome as the excitement of the appearance of a stranger in their midst passed. A childish impulse made Odin want to point at them - _Look! See! They don't care if I march off to my doom so why should you?_

Pushing aside the resistance, Odin had stubbornly set out again. He'd felt the eyes of the Jotun villagers on his back long after he lost sight of their simple homes clustered close together in the narrow valley that cut through the landscape all the way to to the mountain Odin sought. He reluctantly walked across a lengthy expanse of open, snow-covered field, seeing no good or easy way to go around it. He kept watchful of his surroundings as he walked. Acutely aware of how exposed he was, his hand hovered near the hilt of  the sword strapped to his hip with every step. He moved quickly through the field not daring to break until he reached a small grove of barren trees where he ate and took a quick rest before venturing onward. It wasn't long after he stood at the foot of the great mountain, gazing up at the ancient forest that stretched across and up the northern slope.

The Ironwood. Dark silvery-grey trees growing so thick and strong it was as if they sprouted straight from the iron embedded deep in the mountain beneath their roots. It felt so close as he gazed up at it, Odin thought he could smell the life of it carrying down the mountainside to beckon him forth.

Standing now on a steep glacier he could not see an end to in any direction, despair swept over him as Odin wondered if the Ironwood had been calling him to his death all along.

 _Those villagers were right. You are a fool, Odin._ The voice in his head sounded like his father.

 _Perhaps._ _But I am no coward and I will not let her down. Unlike you._

He'd come too far to turn away. Odin pulled the daggers he carried from his boots. Poor climbing tools, but they would have to do. Driving the point of a dagger deep into the ice, Odin found his next foothold and levered himself upward.

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

When Odin finally stumbled, snow-blind, into the base of one of the trees he sought, he was so startled he almost tumbled back down the side of the mountain. He laboured forward for several more minutes, seeking to escape the blistering winds of snow and ice that harassed his every step. Stumbling from tree to tree before stopping, Odin slid inelegantly to the ground with his back pressed up against a tree trunk  wider at its base than he was tall. He made it into the Ironwood. He was out of food, exhausted beyond measure, and his daggers were ruined. And he was far, far overdue to return to Asgard.

But he made it.

It had been nearly a fortnight since he set out on the hidden pathway that would take him to the harsh, frozen realm of Jotunheim. Judging the excursion would taken him little more than a week, he carried with him extra supplies to last only a few days more . He'd spent months planning the trip. Gathering information, studying maps, plotting out his route, preparing everything he needed to have at hand when he reached his destination. He made numerous trips to other realms, both openly and in secret to gather what he thought needed. When he was ready, Odin set off with his friend Mimir into the mountains of Asgard. Before departing, he went by his father's office to tell Bor he was going hunting.

Bor had given him a long, unblinking look. "You've been taking many hunting trips as of late."

"I suppose," Odin agreed.

Bor still didn't blink. "The game must be good."

Odin shrugged, seeing Bor's annoyance at the gesture. _Kings do not shrug, Odin._ He held Bor's gaze, refusing to be the one who looked away first.

Bor returned his attention back to the documents spread out in front of him. "Do not stay away too long. You have responsibilities here."

Odin stared at the back of his father's head, trying to decide if he should say something in response to the dismissal or just leave. In his indecision, Odin almost missed the friendly wave from the other man seated at the desk, across from Bor.

"Enjoy yourself, Odin. Good hunting."

"Thank you, Uncle."

Odin had left his father's office without another word spoken. Behind him he heard his uncle chiding Bor, "You're too hard on him, Brother." Odin fled before he could overhear any more.

He and Mimir made their camp before first nightfall near the hidden pathway. Odin intended to set out at first light, and had spent part of the evening briefing Mimir of the time line he had laid out for himself. The plan was Mimir would remain at their camp until Odin's return and they would return home together. Mimir was skeptical of the plan from the outset. He knew where Odin was going, but Odin hadn't been entirely honest with him. He worried if Mimir knew just who Odin was seeking out, his friend would try and stop him. As far as Mimir knew, Odin was just taking another information-seeking excursion he didn't want Bor to know about.

"Travelling to Jotunheim by yourself is not wise," Mimir said mildly as he watched Odin re-check the contents his travelling satchel one last time before leaving. It had not been the first time he said it.

"It'll be fine," Odin assured him.

Mimir answered with a snort. "If you get eaten, I'm telling the king I knew nothing of any of this. That you snuck off in the night and I didn't hear a thing. I sleep very soundly."

Odin had just laughed.

_Maybe he should have told Mimir the truth after all._

Odin made a noise of amusement low in his throat, too tired for real laughter. Even if Mimir did know where Odin was really going, who would he tell? Bor? That would undoubtedly go over well. For all his mother's long assurances of Bor's devotion to him - _she doesn't make the effort much anymore, does she?_ \- Odin was unconvinced his father would go to much effort to retrieve his wayward heir. Especially now that he had others to mold in his perfect image of a king. No, Odin would make his way home - eventually - and then he would think of some way to explain his absence to his father. Perhaps he would fake an injury.

Odin closed his eyes to rest. He knew if he stayed much longer he would not have to fake an injury for his father's benefit. The cold would take care of it for him.

 _Just another minute_ , he told himself. One more minute's rest, and he would find his feet again and resume his journey. Exhaustion bled through him, pumping through his veins in time with his heartbeat. There was nothing more he wanted than to curl into a ball at the base of the tree sheltering him and sleep. That thought was enough to pry his eyes open and force himself upright. If he slept now, if he slept here, Odin knew he would never again rise.

_Move your feet, Borson._

He did - if stumbling forward through a frigid forest of towering trees counted as such.

Finally sheltered from the relentless storm that had been plaguing him for days, Odin could better see his surroundings. Looking up, he couldn't find any sky past the treetops. Though he thought it to be mid-morning, it was dark in the forest. Dark and still. He could hear the crunch of his footsteps across the frozen ground and the whispers of wind in the distance.

_In the heart of the Ironwood lies the domain of the great witch of Jotunheim._

Odin found variations of the same direction through dozens of sources across four realms. It was said Jotunheim, the realm least known among the Nine for inborn magics, was home to a sorceress more powerful than any other. It was said she had visited every world within every realm and even worlds outside the Nine. She learned the magics of other people as easily as she breathed air. Studied with the greatest of history's mages, and then killed them to absorb their power.  She could change her appearance with a thought if it pleased her to do so and no one who ever met or spoke with her truly knew who she was. It was said she was a true immortal being. Possibly one of the ancient gods returned to a living form to dwell in Yggdrasil until darkness fell across all the realms and the great tree withered and fell. Some said even the Norns were wary of her.

It was also said every soul who tried to seek out the witch in her own woods never returned and her woods were haunted by their trapped and damned spirits. But Odin was certain that part was exaggerated.

Fairly certain.

Reaching under his cloak into the satchel slung across his torso, Odin withdrew his locating device. Crouching down, he set it on the ground before him and activated it. It sprang to life, projecting an image of this world and Odin's exact place on it. Odin touched the slowing spinning world of Jotunheim with his finger and it stopped moving. He swiped his finger across the projection to expand the view around his location. The device obeyed at once and the image changed to the mountain around him. Odin touched the image again and again the image narrowed and then expanded to show the more immediate area around him. He studied the image, making careful note of his position in it and the distance it was showing around him. He deactivated the device with a wave of his hand before scooping it up and replacing it in his bag. 

Odin stood and took a long, careful look around him before he set off again in the direction that would take him where he needed to go.

Into the heart of the Ironwood.

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

"Prince Thor. Welcome."

Heads turned sharply in his direction as Thor hovered indecisively just inside the entrance to the palace library. The man who spoke rose in greeting upon having noticed Thor. Others seated at the large central desk that dominated the entrance room quickly followed. Thor waved his hand at them.

"Please, continue your work. I don't mean to interrupt. I need to speak with Master Kvasir for a moment." Some re-seated themselves immediately, others wavered, caught by the curiosity of Thor seeking out their lore master.

 _Or,_ Thor conceded, _they are surprised to see me within their domain._

The royal palace library held Asgard's most expansive collection of their realm's, and their people's, histories and records. It was not Asgard's biggest library by any means, nor its most impressive, but when searching anything to do with the history of Asgard, chances were greater than not it was held somewhere within.

Kvasir turned back to the desk and spoke too low for Thor to hear. At his words, those still caught on their feet and staring quickly sat and returned their attention to their own work.

"Apologies for my students, my prince," Kvasir said, coming close enough to be out of earshot of the others. "They have heard too much gossip in the days past and I fear it has strained their manners somewhat."

"Perhaps I am not the Odinson they were expecting to see walk through the doors," Thor said.

Kvasir smiled. "Perhaps. Not that we're not pleased to have you visit us. You are always welcome." Kvasir's eyes slid away from Thor, looking past him to the outer corridor. His lips parted as if about to speak, before thinking better of it and holding his peace. He looked back to Thor, bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows raising in question.

Thor wasn't fooled. "Ask, Master Kvasir. It's all right."

Kvasir didn't hesitate. "Have you seen him? Loki? I have heard only rumours, but how is he - really?"

"He is...he looks well." Thor stumbled over his words, hoping his old tutor didn't notice.

Kvasir's level look told Thor he had noticed and was in no way fooled. "I see. Well, then. I hope to see Loki again soon. He has been sorely missed in these halls."

Thor smiled tightly, unsure how to respond to Kvasir's honest words. In addition to being a royal archivist, Master Kvasir was a renowned historian and teacher in his own right. He spent more years than Thor had been alive travelling to other realms to study and share in knowledge. During his own lessons as a youth, many of the books Thor read were written by Kvasir himself. Before being recalled to Asgard to oversee the studies of the king's sons, Kvasir was teaching higher learning on Vanaheim where he gained the reputation of one who knew the answer to any question posed to him.

Thor and Loki had had many tutors throughout their youth, but as they grew older, Master Kvasir was charged with directing the final years of the princes' education. While Thor was often bored with topics that didn't cover great battles and war campaigns, and the generals that led them, Loki devoured his lessons fervently. In Loki, Kvasir found a student worthy of him. Loki absorbed every lesson and book Kvasir offered him and still hungered after more.

Thor could remember more than one occasion feeling like Master Kvasir had forgotten he had two students to guide, not one. Thor had not been a patient youth. He remembered being rude and dismissive, thinking Kvasir's lessons unimportant and mocking Loki's interest in them. Thor never went so far as to disrespect his tutor outright - he'd learned at an early age that was something neither of his parents would tolerate - but he'd skirted that line with Kvasir many, many times.

More so after Thor learned Kvasir had never engaged in battle, nor had any interest in doing so.

The master had been old enough to fight in Asgard's last great war, and a young Thor was aghast when he learned Kvasir had spent the war abroad in Vanaheim. For Thor, who hungered for battle as his brother did for knowledge, to avoid it was an act of cowardice. Nevermind that there were many in Asgard who never served as warriors and were never expected to fight at all. Thor hadn't been able to conceive of one who could fight, but chose not to and pursued other interests instead. Thor spent years being prickly with Kvasir and was elated when he came of an age to escape his lessons.

But not Loki. Loki continued studying even when they were no longer obligated to continue. While Thor spent as many of his free hours as he could honing his skills on the training fields, Loki spent his in Asgard's libraries, often in Kvasir's company. When Master Kvasir accepted a new appointment with a learning hall in Alfheim not long after Loki came of age, Loki asked their parents permission to attend as well. They granted it and Loki had been absent from Asgard for nearly a year.

Up until Loki's fall, that year stood as the longest stretch of time Thor and Loki had been apart. When Loki returned home, he was flushed with confidence and enthusiasm for all he had learned and all those he met.

And Thor had resented him for it.

Sometimes Thor wondered if his pettiness with his tutor was jealousy over losing the attention of an adoring younger sibling whenever Kvasir was present. Those were the years when Thor pursued new interests, made new friends, and had been genuinely surprised Loki didn't share them. Throughout their youth, the brothers had been inseparable. They did everything together - ate, played, fought. Where there was Thor, there was Loki, the saying went. When did things began to change? Was when they grew older and Loki developed interests of his own, interests that did not revolve around his older brother? Interests Thor's younger self never missed the opportunity to mock them as being boring and worthless, as though it was a failing on Loki's part to not hold the same interests as Thor.

Now the shame of it threatened to choke him.

"What can I do for you, Thor?"

Kvasir's words cut through Thor's thoughts. Even though his days of lessons were years in the past and they'd interacted little since, Thor was embarrassed over his past treatment of the man.

"I need your help," Thor confessed.

"What can I do?"

"I need to do some research on my family. Specifically, my grandfather. Bor."

"I see. Anything specific you are looking for?"

A good question. If Thor knew the answer, he wouldn't have had to come here. "The last years of his reign. More than that, I'm not certain."

"I see," Kvasir said again. "All right. Let's get you settled in the section of the royal family archive. I can pull books covering the final years of Bor's rule for you, and set up a searchable image-seeker for you to use if you like, not that they ever have anything better to offer," Kvasir sniffed.

Thor smothered a smile. Loki had always looked down his nose at the image-seekers. _If it's worth knowing, it's written down, Thor._

"And if you have any particular questions, I'd be happy to try and answer it for you," Kvasir said. "You'll remember my grandfather was Bor's Master Archivist and my father helped record some of the events surrounding Bor's final years. Whatever you're wanting to know, if they knew it, it's in here. Somewhere."

Thor didn't remember that about Kvasir's grandfather. He'd undoubtedly told him at some point, but Thor hadn't thought it worth remembering. Another stab of shame cut through him.

"To tell the truth, Master, what I'm looking for...I doubt it would be contained in any official recounting of Bor's rule. It's of a more personal nature. Something, I think, that Bor may not have wanted written down. If it was even widely known. And.." Thor hesitated, "something my father likely wouldn't have wanted recorded either."

Kvasir studied him, face impassive. The same face he used while delivering a scolding when Thor wasn't paying enough attention during lessons. Thor fought not to squirm under the gaze and to hold it steady, reminding himself he was no longer an unruly youth. That he was the crown prince of Asgard and would one day be this man's king. Kvasir didn't look anymore moved now than he did on the lone occasion when Thor was impertinent enough to say it to his face.

It was a risk telling him. Though Odin promised to tell Thor what he was keeping from him, Thor wasn't willing to wait. He was sick of his family's secrets and wanted to know what else was being kept from him. Thor wasn't sure if Kvasir would be willing to help him look for information behind his father's back and he had no way of knowing if Kvasir would tell Odin. But Thor was willing to take the risk if there was a chance he could find answers.

"I take it you are seeking knowledge the Allfather does not want you to have?" Kvasir said, mildly.

"I cannot say he doesn't want me to have it," Thor measured his words carefully. "But his attention is occupied elsewhere. And I wouldn't ask, if I didn't think this was something I should know. I know I was not a very good student, nor a particularly respectful one, but I am in need of your help now. If you are willing to give it. Please."

Still Kvasir's face was impassive. He turned on his heel and began walking away. Thor stared at his retreating back in dismay. Though he couldn't refuse Thor's use of the palace library, but without his help Thor didn't have the faintest idea where to begin looking. He had a sudden, absurd urge to run up to the rooms that held Loki and ask his advice.

 _If it were Loki doing the asking,_ Thor thought, _Kvasir wouldn't hesitate to help him_. He had always favoured Loki over Thor. _And why should that bother you now?_ Thor hadn't cared before, only teased Loki for his devotion to learning.

"Come with me, Thor," Kvasir called over his shoulder.

Thor followed him at once. Kvasir led him down one of the halls that branched off the main room. Each hall had more halls branching off it. Some led to wide, circular rooms filled with tables and chairs, while others carved out into private study rooms, and others still were open spaces with minimal furniture meant for the projection of images. Everywhere one looked there were shelves lining the walls, sweeping from floor to ceiling. Books, scrolls, and maps gathered from all nine realms, and some beyond, over the course of their people's existence. And people. In every hall Thor saw, there were people.

_Not everyone wants to spend all their days bashing one another on the training grounds, Brother._

Thor followed Kvasir deeper and deeper into the winding halls until he turned into one more hall and stopped. It looked like one of the private study areas with a single desk and chair in the centre of the room. One side of the desk held the image-seeker, and next to it another device for reading crystals that the other higher realms commonly used to store information.

Kvasir crossed the room in a handful of strides and after a brief search of the shelves, began pulling books. Thor was slower, unsure what he should be doing. Kvasir took his presence as an invitation to begin piling books in Thor's arms. When Kvasir had pulled close to twenty books and Thor was starting to worry he may drop them if the pile shifted even the slightest, he stopped.

"There," Kvasir said. "That should be enough to get you started. Let's get you set up."

 

***  *  *  *  ***

 

_On this day, I, Odin Allfather, do proclaim my second-born son, Loki Odinson, to be..._

Alive.

The next word to be written on the document Odin had been wrestling with for longer than he cared to think about was _alive_. But once that word was written, Odin had to think what came next.

_My son is alive - and I do not recognize him. Your prince is alive - and I have locked him away for his own good._

_Rejoice._

That was proving to be more difficult.

Odin sat back with a sigh, pushing himself away from his desk and the document as if the arms reach worth of distance would be enough to gain inspiration.

It didn't work.

Odin stood and left his office - and the document - behind him. Walking through the public corridors, there seemed more activity than usual. The public spaces of Asgard's palace were open to any who had business within its walls and people flowed through the corridors through all hours of the day. Though the citizenry tended not to suddenly have business to attend to at the palace all at once. There were people everywhere. Many where clustered in groups, talking in low voices that faltered as they caught sight of him.

Odin stifled a sigh. It had been many long, long years since anyone could have described him as naive, least of all Odin himself. Word was spreading, slow and steady, that Loki was alive. As king, it was Odin's responsibility to make an announcement stating this fact. Of course, once the announcement was made it could not be taken back, nor altered after the fact. The message would fly as it would. On the other hand, the longer the whispers continued the more rumours they would spawn. And rumours had a way of spreading faster and farther than any announcement from Asgard's throne. Odin's best chance to harness the winds of the gossip mongers was to issue his proclamation with all haste. In presenting a united front with his family and council, he hoped it might be enough to satisfy his people.

_They would be more satisfied if they saw Loki._

This was a problem. Explaining what possible reason there could be for Loki's absence during an announcement proclaiming him alive and returned home. Odin would be announcing Loki's miraculous survival to his people while denying them the chance to see their second prince for themselves. Odin could not use the same excuses he made to his council. In this Thor was right - people would think Loki had gone mad.

_Hasn't he?_

Odin would have to think of something plausible to explain away Loki's absence. Explain it while knowing full well whatever was said would be carried away to be discussed in homes and taverns throughout the realm that night and the following nights.

"This is what it is to be a king, Odin. To be a leader," his mother had told him when he was a youth and had been angry over something Bor had done at court.

"To lie?" Odin scoffed.

She raised her chin and knocked him back on his heels with a look. "Withholding a truth that would cause harm is not the same as telling a lie, Odin. Do not mistake the two."

Odin stared in bafflement. "You think it's all right? To mislead people?"

"I think it is no simple task to soothe the minds and ease the worries of your people. Asgardian kings find it easy enough to muster their followers into a bloodthirsty battle frenzy, but you'll find keeping them content and on your side is the harder of the tasks. It is not always wise to tell the truth. But when you must tell them something, keep it as close to the truth as possible, lest your people try to string you up with your own lies." She's smiled at that, her odd half-smile where only one corner of her mouth quirked upward.

Odin couldn't help but smile back. "Sounds overly complicated."

"Oh, it is," Bestla had said cheerfully. "Tell them what they need to hear. Tell them what will make them happy. Give the people what they want."

Bestla had been right. Though it had taken Odin centuries to learn the lesson and likely not fully in the manner she'd intended.

A short walk. Just to clear his head. Then he would finish the proclamation and schedule its reading in the King's Hall for later in the day.

Odin glanced at all the people bustling around him.

_Or perhaps the Great Hall would be better._

He hoped there would be enough room.

 


	16. Sayeth the King II

Standing on a balcony looking out across Asgard, Loki was struck by how familiar it looked. The feeling sat ill, twisting in his belly. It seemed like everything should be different somehow, but Asgard looked as he remembered it. Tall public buildings. Smaller private homes. Places of business, learning and play. Trees and gardens and mountains. Avenues stretching wide enough to accommodate all manner of people and celebration stretching far to meet the edge of the water. The water rushing out to endlessly throw itself into the maw of the Void. " _The waters of Asgard feed the roots of Yggdrasil,"_ Frigga had told him as a child. That had been a lie, too. Strange how Loki - of all people - never noticed what skilled a liar the queen was.

He swept his gaze across the city, picking out landmarks and favoured spots of the past as he went. The Library of Realms stretched up into the sky on his left, one of the tallest buildings in Asgard not counting the palace itself. The Great Hall of Learning stood directly across from the library. Further down the same avenue a tavern Loki frequented in his younger years before his visits there lessened in favour of the taverns Thor preferred.

Loki picked out two smaller marketplaces, with a wide stretch of private homes between them including, Loki remembered, the one belonging to Volstagg and his family. The market nearest the library contained a bakery capable of bringing eternal peace to all the realms as far as Loki was concerned. Though he'd never had complaint against the cooks who staffed the palace kitchens, there was simply no better tasting sweet pastries in any realm than the ones in that blessed place.

Even if Loki couldn't remember what they tasted like now.

Neither market looked as crowded as they normally did. Perhaps it was still too early in the day. Asgard's main marketplace lay out of his sight, behind the palace and was always the busiest place in the city at any given time.

The Avenue of Queens stretched out in front of the palace, marked by great monuments dedicated to all Aesir queens throughout history. The wide, stone walkway was dotted with seating areas and lined with open gardens that remained in vibrant bloom year round. Pathways branched off from the main walkway and each other in every direction, leading to all manner of trees, flowers, grassy alcoves, fountains, and statues. A popular public space for people to while away the hours. Loki enjoyed walking through the winding pathways, finding a quiet spot to sit and read. Or just to think. The best spot was near a small grove of trees brought from the homeland of Bor's queen, close to a multi-tiered fountain topped with a glittering statue said to be the image of a young Bestla on the day she wed her husband.

_Third-born princess from an insignificant realm, married off to the philandering future High King of the Realms when she was barely of age. No wonder she wasn't smiling._

Looking down over the edge of the balcony, Loki could see the palace stables. He wondered if his horse was in there. If anyone had bothered to take her out to the her favourite meadow an hour's ride out of the city while Loki was away. He closed his eyes to remember what it felt like to ride. To be free. To care for nothing but the wind in your hair and the freedom to do as he pleased.

_Stupid, foolish child._

Asgard was as it had been. Everything as it was before...before everything changed. Before he changed.

Before a long, lonely fall.

A fall that promised death, yet Death did not hold out her hand for Loki. Something else did.

A void should hold naught but death or madness, whichever visited its victims first. Everyone knew this. Yet Loki learned otherwise. He learned just how little he truly knew. Time and distance held no meaning to that which had tucked itself away amidst the nothing.

Waiting.

It was an awakening experience for Loki.

Loki leaned out as far as his invisible leash would allow. Taking in the place where the Bifrost once stood. At the time, he'd been too occupied trying to survive - ha! - the destruction to appreciate how thoroughly Thor destroyed the jewel of Asgard. The observatory and about a third of the bridge that led out to where it once stood were all gone. Just a jagged, broken edge remained. Loki wondered if Heimdall still stood watch at the foot of a broken bridge, watching for troubles in distant lands that Asgard could no longer respond to.

 _Mayhap all the realms have fallen to chaos and ruin and here Asgard stands, powerless to do a thing._ Loki smiled. Unlikely, but it made for a satisfying fantasy.

Did Heimdall still live? Loki's smile faded as he realized he did not know. He tried to remember if anyone mentioned it. He wasn't sure. But Thor returned to Asgard from his banishment, and Heimdall had been no where to be seen when Loki took his last ride out on the bridge, so surely the watchman still lived? Survived being encased in the ice from the Casket of Ancient Winters. Loki didn't think such a thing was possible. Maybe he hadn't used it correctly when he turned its power on Heimdall that day so long ago.

After all, it had been Loki's first time using it for something other than stripping away Odin's lies.

He didn't know why he opted for the Casket as a weapon when he held Gungnir. Loki knew what was likely to happen when he went out on that bridge. Heimdall was already suspicious of him and the watchman presented an obstacle in Loki's plan to bring Laufey into Asgard. He didn't think Heimdall was likely to meekly accept his banishment and leave Asgard entirely into Loki's keeping. Heimdall going for his sword wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise was the impulsive decision on Loki's part to take up the Casket instead of wielding Gungnir.

_Because Gungnir wasn't his, not really. The Casket was all he was ever meant for._

_And besides, it wasn't to be the first time he let Gungnir go._

_"Loki, no!"_

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms into them hard enough to hurt. It was almost enough to clear the image that blazed across his mind of his own hand letting go of Gungnir - his family ( _false_ ), his home ( _not_ ), his life ( _wrong_ ). The pressure on his eyes abruptly let up when a gentle tugging on his wrists pulled his hands away from his face just enough to stop it from hurting. To stop him from hurting himself. Loki wasted a long, tired moment trying to free himself from magic he could neither sense nor fight - _I should be allowed to gouge my own eyeballs out if I bloody well want to_ \- before giving up and letting his hands drop to his sides. He kept his eyes pressed shut just to prove he could before opening them again.

As much as it wasn't his to love, Asgard was beautiful. The sight of it still capable of soothing something deep in his heart. Something Loki didn't care to think about.

Loki wondered how much time had passed since he last stood in Asgard. Before he froze Heimdall. Before he killed Laufey. Before he fell. _Before Thor damned him._ Asgard looked the same, save the Bifrost, but Asgard always looked the same. The sprawl of the city looked hardly any different now than it did when he was a boy and still sharing living quarters with Thor.

Asgard was not fond of change. Something Loki never understood. It still amazed him at times that it never occurred to him he had not been born Aesir. Especially given how out of step he so often felt with the realm and the people he supposedly belonged to.

A noise from behind him jerked Loki away from the balcony's edge, his hand reaching for a weapon ( _useless_ ) before his eyes overtook his instincts.

It was Frigga.

She smiled as she caught sight of him edging back inside the main room. He matched her smile with a fixed, false one of his own. Frigga's smile faltered.

"A second visit in one day? I am honoured," Loki said with a polite incline of his head.

"I hope I am not intruding," she said.

Loki laughed lightly. "Of course not. I can resume staring at the walls at any time."

Frigga's mouth pursed before she walked briskly across the floor to meet him. She held a goblet in her hand. Loki could smell apples as she approached. She held it out to him. When Loki kept his hands folded behind his back, Frigga set the goblet down on a nearby table.

"A healing elixir," she told him with a small gesture at the goblet. "You should drink as much as you can."

Loki craned his neck to look down into the goblet. The golden liquid looked and smelled harmless. But then, he wasn't exactly in a position to tell for sure without his magic.

"It will not harm you, Loki," Frigga said, as if plucking the thoughts from his mind.

Wondering if he looked as skeptical as he felt, Loki leaned away from the table that held the goblet.

"You do not believe me," Frigga breathed out like she's taken a blow to the chest. She gathered herself and stepped closer to him. "It is meant to help restore your appetite, as well as help you find better rest. That is all. I promise you. You see?" She picked up the goblet and took a small sip. She held it out to him again.

Indecision warred. She kept wanting him to eat. But Loki was not hungry. Not really. Not when the sight of so much food felt like a test. When had he last eaten? He couldn't remember.

"Loki," Frigga said, soft and pleading. "Please, my son. Let me help you."

Loki could bear many things, but not the sound of Frigga begging. With a sigh and a single deft movement, Loki plucked the goblet from her hands and drank. It tasted as it smelled. Apples. He swallowed it down, fighting the urge to gag with every gulp. His stomach gave a violent lurch as the elixir hit. He felt the onset of panic that he would vomit, right in front of Frigga, before warmth suddenly spread through him. His insides calmed.

Loki set the goblet aside after consuming less than half its contents, almost panting from the simple effort of drinking. Frigga's smile was back as she laid a hand on his cheek.

"I understand you are wary," she said. "But please believe me when I say I would sooner cut out my own heart than bring you harm."

The queen of Asgard was an accomplished liar. Loki knew this to be true. His head felt heavy as sudden exhaustion crept through his limbs. _Poison. Fool, it was poisoned!_ Panic tried to find a hold as warmth continued to spread through his body, but soon even his mind calmed and Loki wanted nothing more than to sleep.

"...lie down, get some sleep," Frigga was saying. "I will visit you again when you rise."

Loki grabbed onto her wrist when he felt her begin to pull away. _Don't leave me_ , he wanted to whine like a pathetic child. He remembered his pride in time to remain silent. Frigga was quick to put her hand back, understanding his unvoiced need regardless. Her other hand came up to cradle his other cheek. She hummed a soft tune Loki recognized from his childhood as her thumbs brushed along his cheekbones, soothing as she went.

Loki could not help but lean into her touch.

Just a little.

  


***  *  *  *  ***

  


Thor slammed shut the book he'd been searching through with greater force than necessary, biting back a roar of frustration. He'd spent hours sitting in this windowless scholar's nook searching through book after book, record after record, and was no closer to finding the answers he sought than when he started.

_Do you even know what you're looking for?_

_No._

_That may be part of the problem._

Thor pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. The pressure distracted him away from the temptation to flip the table - and all its contents - onto the floor. Rubbing at his eyes, Thor sighed. He really didn't know what he was looking for. Everything Kvasir had gathered for him was relevant to the later years of Bor's reign, but Thor couldn't figure out how to find answers when he wasn't sure he understood the questions. The frustration was maddening.

_Because you thought it would be easy. Open a book, flip through a few pages and behold - all the answers you seek spread out before you. Simply because you wish it._

_Yes._

The thought shamed Thor. He did think it would be - not easy, but easier than this. It wasn't. Thor almost laughed. He wasn't sure if he was being arrogant or naive. Perhaps both.

_Loki always made it look so easy._

_Because he took it seriously._

Thor pushed another sigh from deep in his lungs, seeking to expel all his frustration even as he reached for another book from the pile. He could take research seriously, too. He had to. There was no one to do it for him.

And wasn't that part of the problem? At any other time in Thor's life if he faced such a burden, he would first try to solve it himself. And then, after he became too frustrated, he would abandon it or else drop the task in the lap of someone else, usually his younger brother.

Loki always helped him. At least, he'd always believed Loki was helping him.

 _He was, he did,_ a part of him still stubbornly clung to as absolute. _It was only recently he changed._

_Oh? Did he?_

_Are you sure?_

Thor gave his head a shake as if that would dispel all his doubts. He started paging through the new book. Brooding over things brought him no closer to finding the answers he needed. Page after page, Thor scanned the words, hoping something significant would leap out at him. A few dozen pages in, Thor flipped to a page that contained only a picture of a man and a single phrase -

_The Betrayal of Runolfr_

Thor blinked. Holding his hand in place to mark the page, he used his other hand to turn back to the book's beginning. Scanning the opening lines, he realized this was a book detailing the final days of Bor's reign and the early days of Odin's. Thor slowly turned back to the page he was holding open was and studied the picture. Though Thor was the first to admit he hadn't paid the best attention to his studies of Asgard's history that didn't include great battles and greater warriors, he was sure he'd never seen a picture of this man before now. But the name? That he remembered.

Runolfr. The betrayer. The secret wolf.

The slayer of Bor, King of Asgard.

Bor's brother.

Even having never seen a picture before, Thor could see the resemblance easily. To Bor. To Odin. Even to Thor. Runolfr looked like family, black hair and all.

_And he murdered his own brother. Then tried to overthrow Bor's son, nearly plunging Asgard headlong into civil war in the process._

Asgard's history was vast, full of conflict and strife both outside its borders and within them. The time since the last great war with Jotunheim ended was the longest period to date Asgard had gone without any great conflict. But never had Asgard come so close to civil war as they had after Bor's death. Never had one of their kings been murdered by his own kin. Stabbed in the back by his younger brother and most trusted advisor.

_"My greatest friend."_

Bor's own words describing his brother. From his coronation speech and lovingly transcribed word for word by Kvasir's grandfather in an earlier book Thor had looked through.

Thor scanned the pages, though he already knew this story. Bor's first edict as king was naming his younger brother as his chief advisor. Together, the sons of Buri were as much a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield as they were in council chambers. Bor ruled with an iron will and Runolfr was his sword.

Then one day Runolfr slew his own brother within the family residence of the palace. There were no witnesses. Bor's queen, Bestla, found her husband's slain body. _"Her cries shook the foundation of the realm,"_ was written in one accounting of Bor's death after another. Thor had seen it inscribed on artwork depicting Asgard's queen finding her dead king. Bestla's grief for her beloved husband was so great, she succumbed to it before help arrived. Drawn by the sound of her distress, servants and guards burst in only to find both of Asgard's sovereigns dead. There were whispers she too was slain by the king's traitorous brother.

In a way, she was.

The tragedy of Bor and Bestla had inspired artists throughout the realms for an age, creating countless works to commemorate Asgard's tragedy. Thor did not understand this. To his mind, something so awful, so shameful and horrifying was best left to the pages of history, not used as decoration to be gawked at. The page following that of Runolfr's image contained a replica of one such work. A painting of some renown that still hung in a one of Alfheim's great halls of art. It showed a bloody figure sprawled lifeless on the floor, being cradled by a woman whose mouth was open in a silent scream. Thor recognized the likeness of his grandparents. A shadow of a wolf lurked on the wall behind them. Thor stared at the image for a long moment before turning the page.

The narrative followed through the aftermath of Bor's murder and the hurried coronation of his eldest son, Odin. Many attested as to how Runolfr supported his grief-stricken nephew as the young king struggled to rule in the face of his own shock and loss and that of the realm's. But before long Runolfr was working to undermine Odin's rule with rumours that Odin somehow orchestrated the murder of his own father. The longer the circumstances of Bor's murder remained vague, the more the rumours swirled and chasms began to break open amongst Asgard's people.

Less than a year after Bor's death, Runolfr led an uprising that consisted of no less than a third of Bor's council and all the warriors loyal to them. They attempted to overthrow Odin, seize the throne, and set Bor's young second son, Villi, upon it with Runolfr poised to act as the child's chief advisor. Odin, having learned of the plot beforehand, was ready with his own forces. After days of fighting throughout the city, Runolfr and his surviving supporters were defeated, seized and imprisoned. In the weeks that followed, they were all tried for treason and found guilty. Odin showed mercy to some of the warriors, banishing them from Asgard. Runolfr, the council members who followed him, and the higher-ranking warriors were executed.

That should have been the end. But history told that the night before Runolfr died, he asked to see the king. Odin granted his uncle a final private audience. There was no accounting for what was said between them. Odin never spoke of it.

The following morning before Runolfr was beheaded, he offered as his final words -

_"I accept this punishment as just, as I accept I was wrong in my charges against Asgard's king. In the death of my brother, I accept my part and ask for no pardon. Let it be known I have always done what is best for Asgard. As I do now."_

No charge of kin-slaying was leveled against Runolfr by Odin, yet many took his last words as a confession. Despite the speed of which Runolfr's rebellion was put down, it was many years before the unease of all the upheaval of the time settled and Asgard's people fully embraced their new king. Acting to prevent another attempt to supplant him with his own brother, Odin rewrote Bor's line of succession. Odin struck Vili and Ve from the line and sent them both away from the city to be raised by guardians appointed by Odin. A cousin of Bor's stood as Odin's named successor right up until Thor was born.  

When he was first learning the details of Runolfr's rebellion, Thor had been incensed on behalf of his uncles. He didn't see why they should lose their place when they had done nothing wrong.  Loki, on the other hand, thought Odin's actions perfectly reasonable.

_"What else could he do, Thor? Father had to secure his throne. With so much of the support he should have inherited from Bor wiped out, Asgard's political and military classes were in turmoil. He couldn't afford the distraction."_

_"His brothers were a distraction?"_

_"If they could be used against him - again - then, yes. He was protecting them as much as himself."_

Turning back the pages, Thor stared at the image of Runolfr. He looked ordinary. Not at all a man capable of treachery that nearly unmade a realm. As a youth, Thor couldn't fathom the scope of Runolfr's betrayal and subsequent rebellion against the throne. Even now the details struck him with horror, skin prickling in unease. Bor trusted his brother more than anyone.

And his brother repaid him with death.

_Bor never saw it coming._

"There you are! What are you doing down here?"

Thor looked up at Sif, unable to comprehend why she was standing there.

Her face turned concerned. "Thor? Are you all right?"

Thor laughed roughly, dropping his eyes to blink away the sudden, hot stinging in them. "Yes. Yes, of course," he said, carefully closing the book on his great-uncle's serious-looking face. Thor sniffed once and cleared his throat before looking back up at Sif with a smile.

She didn't look convinced. "Would you like to try answering that again?"

His next smile was wistful. "I am...I have been better."

"What can I do?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Truly. It is for me to sort out."

Sif still looked doubtful, but didn't challenge him. Stepping closer to the table, she took in the books piled around him. "Doing a little light reading, are we?"

"Research."

"On what?"

"A good question. I'm afraid I'm less certain now than I was when I started."

Sif gave the stacks of books a dubious look before visibly steeling herself. "Then I will help you." She cast about for somewhere to sit. "What are you searching for?"

Thor pushed back his chair and stood. "Actually, I think I have had enough for one day. And I am sure you did not come here to help me read."

"Not really," she said with obvious relief.

Thor chuckled at that as they made their way out into the hall. They fell into step easily, making their way through the library. "What brings you to these unfamiliar shores?" he teased.

Sif mock glared. "Well, I was comfortably seated in Volstagg's home with my friends waiting to discuss matters concerning the realm and the outcome of certain meeting, but _someone_ who was expected did not show up."

Thor briefly closed his eyes in dismay. He'd been awaiting the outcome of Tyr's meeting as much as anyone. He and his friends had made arrangements to meet and wait for Fandral to be free to find out what had been discussed. Thor hadn't forgotten, he had just...

"I didn't think I would be here so long. I am sorry, Sif."

She smiled in a way that said she wasn't truly upset with him. "Are you going to tell me what you were looking for?"

"I do not really know."

"What does that mean?"

"I am unsure. I am sorry," Thor hurried to say again in response to a huff of genuine irritation from Sif. "I am not trying to be difficult. I am just..." Thor took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Have you ever searched for something, something you know is there, even when you do not know the path to take to find it? Or even what form it may take."

Sif's irritation gave way to concern. "I don't...Thor, what's this about? Is it," she looked about quickly to ensure they were alone in the hall. They were, but she still lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "Is it Loki?"

"In a way, yes," Thor said. "I am looking forward to finding out what Tyr's meeting was about. Is everyone still waiting at Volstagg's?"

Sif raised her eyebrows at the abrupt change of subject, but didn't challenge him. "No, Fandral was called away some time ago. He filled us in before leaving and Volstagg told me where you'd gone before he and Hogun ventured off to spar. They want us to join them later."

Thor nodded. "So what did Fandral say?"

They kept even pace with each other as they left the library and made their way to the nearest exit from the palace. Out in into the fresh air, Thor breathed deep, pleased to be outside after spending more than half a day in the library. They kept to the walkways that weaved around the palace. Ahead were the palace's public gardens, and just beyond those, the training grounds.

"Remarkably little," Sif said. "He said Tyr seemed intent on taking an accounting of our defences and the number of warriors we have at the ready and in reserve."

"Did Tyr say why? As I recall, he made such an accounting just a little over a year ago. Not long after..." Thor trailed off.

"Yes, I remember," Sif said quickly, sparing him from having to finish his sentence. "And Fandral said little has changed since, and many of the commanders and masters seemed puzzled as to the purpose of the meeting. Tyr is usually satisfied with their individual reports. Some asked if there was trouble brewing, but Fandral said Tyr only ordered them all be on their guard. To not let their attentions falter in the days ahead as they had in the past."

"Those were Tyr's words?" At Sif's nod, Thor winced. "And how many took offence?"

Sif smiled. "According to Fandral - many."

Thor shook his head. He wasn't surprised. Infamous for his abrasive and demanding nature Tyr may be, there were plenty of seasoned warriors who would take offence at the suggestion they were ever anything but attentive to their task of keeping Asgard safe. But then, there was a similar uproar among the ranks of warriors last year. After Asgard's defences were penetrated not once, but twice by their enemies. _Or rather, the enemy within Asgard's very heart._ Not as long as he lived would Thor understand why Loki did as he did in letting Jotun into Asgard to attack their people. To kill their warriors.

_To attack our parents. Brother, what were you thinking?_

Recriminations ran rampant after the destruction of the Bifrost and Loki's fall. Many accused Asgard's forces of failing in their duties, some going so far as accuse Tyr and his commanders of having grown complacent and dull after too many years of peace. Tyr had not taken the accusations lightly and had ordered training, patrols and defences to be increased. At every subsequent council meeting, Tyr confidently reported the security of their borders and citizens thanks to his improvements.

_Certainly with their enemies thoroughly crushed and Bifrost broken, Asgard has never been safer._

"Fandral said Tyr also got into a terrific argument with Baldur," Sif said lightly, jolting Thor out of his sour thoughts.

"What? Baldur?" Thor couldn't help but laugh, unable to reconcile the image. If Tyr was known for his arrogance and demanding nature, Thor's cousin was equally known for his mild temperament. Thor didn't think he'd ever seen Baldur truly angry.

Sif smiled at his reaction. "Fandral said the sight of it shocked the whole room into silence."

"What was it about?"

"Tyr wants Baldur to cease teaching younger students for a time. Devote his full attention to older students who are closer to joining Asgard's ranks."

"I take it Baldur disagreed?"

"Oh, yes. Fandral does a fantastic impression of your cousin, by the way," Sif grinned wickedly, her eyes bright. "He has the head tilted back, eyes narrowed, staring down your nose move down to perfection. Though to be fair Fandral has observed that particular expression many, many times through the years on the men in your family, not just Baldur."

"It does seem to be a common trait," Thor acknowledged. He knew he used it, and had been on the end of it himself courtesy of both his father and brother. "So who won? Please tell it was Baldur. My day would be much lifted to know he bested Tyr in a verbal battle."

"Actually, it was..."

"Hello, Thor."

Thor's smile was tight and formal as he turned to greet the blond woman who appeared suddenly at his back. "Amora. Good day."

Amora smiled in a manner both fond and smug, in a way that always made Thor worry she knew more than she ought of his thoughts. "It is, isn't it?" She said nothing else, just continued to smile up at him.

"You look well," he offered politely before the silence became awkward.

She beamed at that, taking a step closer. "Thank you! I feel wonderful. You must as well, with Loki alive and returned to us."

Thor did not twitch. "There has been no statement released by the king regarding Loki."

Amora's smile twisted into a smirk. "Statement? Well, no. Not yet. But not all news of Asgard comes from the throne, hmm?"

Thor's said nothing in return. His silence didn't deter her.

"I've just come from the palace myself. I wanted to visit Loki. I've missed him so terribly," she said with a great sigh. "Would you believe the guards turned me away? They would not even tell me he was there. I was informed none of the royal family is receiving visitors at present. I was so disappointed," Amora pouted for a beat before her usual smile returned. "But then I saw you. How the Norns smile upon me."

Thor studied her, trying to determine her meaning. Having known Amora for many years, he knew better than to trust anything she said.

Amora's gaze drifted away from him and settled on Sif. Her smile grew sharper. Thor could feel Sif going rigid at his side.

"Lady Sif," Amora said with amusement. "How lovely that you can tear yourself away from your oh-so-important posting in the north to visit our fair city. I do hope we're not keeping you from the vital task of keeping predators from descending the mountains to feast upon the livestock."

Sif's nostrils flared once. "As a warrior, I serve Asgard where I'm commanded. Not that you'd know anything about it."

Amora's laughed as if Sif said something uproariously funny. "Oh, I'm sure we're all grateful for your service, Lady Sif. Whatever would become of Asgard without you?"

Thor cleared his voice to interrupt just as Sif's expression grew murderous. Both woman looked back at him. "Amora, you'll have to pardon us. We were on our way somewhere. It was very nice to see you." Thor smiled as graciously as he knew how.

Amora watched him for a moment, a steady look that did nothing to dispel Thor's sense of her looking into his mind and heart. He fought the urge to lean away from her.

In a moment, the look passed and Amora was smiling easily again. She flicked her gaze over to Sif, seeming to challenge her before leaning in closer to Thor. Amora pressed her chest into his upper arm as she reached up and pressed a fast kiss just above his jaw. She pulled away and stepped back before he could react.

"Do offer Loki my fondest regards, Thor," she said pleasantly. "Tell him I have missed his company. Asgard has been dreadfully boring without him."

Thor blinked at her forwardness. He thought about responding without confirming Loki's return, but decided it was pointless. "I will convey your well wishes, of course. Though I hope you will not take offense that I do not kiss him on your behalf."

Amora answering laugh was playful. "I do not mind. I'm sure I will see him for myself soon enough. Goodbye, Thor." Amora didn't waste a glance in Sif's direction as she sauntered off.

"You restrained yourself admirably," Thor assured Sif, once Amora was out of earshot.

Sif glowered at the woman's back. "Why is it every time I lay eyes on that woman, I have the urge to draw my sword."

"Because you've always had good instincts, Sif." Thor waited until Amora was no longer in sight before giving Sif a gentle nudge. "Come, let us find our friends. They are surely bereft without us."

Sif nodded. "I suddenly have a great urge to beat something bloody."

"I volunteer Volstagg," Thor said, seriously. "Better him than me when you are in a temper."

Sif snorted a laugh. "Don't be silly. I'd be more than pleased to thrash you both."

Thor sighed dramatically. "Very well. Lead me the way to my doom." They made it no more than a few more steps when they were intercepted by a guard bringing Thor a message. 

The king had scheduled an announcement for late afternoon to be held in the Great Hall. And Thor's presence was required.

 


	17. Sayeth the King III

Frigga entered Odin's office without knocking. She knew he was alone. She found her husband slumped at his desk, staring without seeing at a document on his desk. She stood off to the side of his good eye and waited for him to notice her. When he didn't, she pushed aside the sudden swell of concern for his well-being and cleared her throat.

Odin looked up. He blinked once, then twice before his gaze sharpened and he turned in his seat to better take in the sight of her. He straightened at once, all distraction fading away as he focused on her.

 _Hiding his weariness,_ she realized. _From me._ Her heart gave a painful twist. First Loki's distrust. Now Odin's. _Will Thor push me away next?_ Frigga wondered if this was her punishment for keeping the truth from Loki for so long - losing her family.

Setting one hand flat on his desk, Odin pushed himself slowly to his feet and faced her. "How is he?" Odin asked.

"Resting now," Frigga answered.

Odin responded with a faint grunt of approval. "The elixir worked then? Good. I worried he would make a fuss. Refuse it."

A hint of a smile tugged at her mouth. "Make a fuss? Our Loki? Surely you jest, husband."

Another grunt followed, then silence.

Frigga wanted to sigh. To laugh. Even weep. She stood within arm's reach of her husband, yet there may as well be a chasm between them. One filled with snapping creatures waiting to swallow unwitting victims whole.

A chasm that had broken open the night she hurried Odin from his bed to send after their quarreling sons and he'd returned with only one of her children in tow.

_I never forgave him for it. And he knows._

Frigga did sigh then. An unhappy rush of air. Even with Loki returned to her arms, the chasm remained. Their family still broken. The damage done in that terrible night - and the days that led up to it - lurked in darkened corners, waiting to make itself known again and again, no matter how many times Odin took her in his arms to try and comfort her.

Comfort himself.

It was true Frigga blamed Odin for Loki's death. As she blamed herself for not seeing the break looming ahead.

 _I should never have let Loki take up Gungnir_ , she despaired as she did every day since her child was swallowed by the Void. Despaired even as she knew there was little she could have done to prevent Loki's regency even if she had the foresight to see the disaster that would follow. She would have had to stand in direct opposition to Odin's law of succession, and she would have failed.

And cost herself even more of Loki's wavering trust in the process. _There was still more I could have done. Should have done._

Should have done long ago. Before her youngest son was thrust onto a throne he was ill-prepared for. Before her eldest led his brother and their friends off on an ill-fated trip. Before she allowed her husband's ill-advised plan to bury a secret in the heart of their family.

 _This is as much my fault as it is Odin's,_ Frigga knew. She misjudged Loki's state of mind when they'd spoke at Odin's bedside. Underestimated the enormity of his hurt and insecurity. Her mistakes helped lead them here as sure as anyone's. She should never have let Odin go out to the Bifrost alone. She should have gone with him. _Perhaps then everything would be different._

Perhaps their family would still be whole.

Odin started to turn away from her. "Was there something you needed, Frigga?"

She followed him. "I received your message. The guard was waiting with it when I came from tending to Loki."

He stopped moving and eyed her with uncertainty. "And?"

Frigga squared her shoulders and held her head high as she walked past him with sure steps to pluck the lone document from the centre of his desk. Odin made no move to stop her. She read through his proclamation with a practised eye.

Odin watched her in silence. He did not prompt her for her opinion. He knew he needed only wait for his queen to offer it.

She always did. This time was no different.

She raised an eyebrow. "It's not finished."

"Not as yet."

"You're to appear before all of Asgard within the hour," she pointed out.

"I know," he said gruffly.

Frigga stared at the parchment in her hand. "I thought it would be different."

"Different?" He looked at her skeptically. "How? Even I can only conceive of so many ways to inform Asgard of Loki's survival."

"Not this!" she said, shaking the document as if it offended her. "Us! Our sons. Our family. Every night I begged the Norns for another chance. Begged them to reweave the very fabric of existence if it allowed Loki to come home. I would have given anything - anything! - to have him come home. To live. To let me look upon him and touch him and hold him again, even for a moment. Anything!" Frigga heard her voice crack on the words, saw Odin's eye widen in alarm.  

"And I have received what I wanted," she said, trying to force her voice steady. "But I thought it would be different. That things would go back to how they were. Loki trusting in me, confiding in me. When things bothered him, he came to me. He sought my council, and I treasured that. I wanted it back."

"Frigga," Odin said carefully.

"No," she cut him off with a shake of her head. "Don't you see? I was a fool. For thinking things would ever be the same. The Loki I wanted returned to me so desperately was a Loki that has not existed in many years. Not truly. I do not know when he began keeping secrets from me. I think I even knew he was, but I ignored it. Let myself believe it was just because he was growing up, and what grown man confides everything in his mother?"

Her voice cracked again and she began to cry. Tears flowing down both cheeks. Frigga wiped at them hastily, uncaring if the king's proclamation still in her hand got a little damp in the process. Odin stepped closer, hesitating as if he feared being rejected before using his thumb to brush away her tears. She allowed it. More than anyone, she knew how much tears unsettled him.

"I did. I told mine everything," he said with a rueful smile. "Though perhaps that is not the best example right now."

Frigga laughed in spite of herself, an inelegant, choked-off sound. "I just wanted...," she trailed off with a soft exhale. "It's silly."

"You just wanted the relationship you and Loki had when he was younger. When he was more open with you, happy and confident to tell his mother of his doubts and worries," Odin said.

"Yes," she confessed quietly.

"It's not silly," Odin said firmly. "Not at all. I, too, harboured the hope that the simple act of bringing Loki home would be enough to restore the balance of our family. That all would quickly be forgiven and life resume as it did. I came to realize all too quickly such a wish was not to be granted."

"Then we are both of us fools."

"Maybe so," Odin said, rough thumb still resting on her face. "But at least we are well matched fools."

Another laugh startled from her. She thought of Loki's face before he took the elixir from her, distrustful and suspicious, and sobered. "I fear the road ahead will be perilous and long."

"I fear you are correct." With one last brush of Frigga's face to ensure the last of the tears gone, Odin stared down at his feet before speaking again. "There's something I haven't told you. Something I learned after Loki returned home."

Frigga stiffened. "What is it?"

Odin's eye dragged back to her face, giving her a long look. Debating with himself as to how to confess something he clearly did not want to.

"Just tell me," she said, feeling weary beyond her years.

He nodded once, resolved. "The spear Loki brought with him to Midgard. I have determined it contained one of the Infinity Stones. The Mind Stone, I think. I do not know where he got it. He refused to tell me."

Frigga felt as though the ground slipped away beneath her feet and she was falling. She swayed and slapped a hand down on the edge of Odin's desk to hold herself steady. Seconds, minutes, possibly years went by before Frigga found her voice again. "I beg your pardon?" she asked politely.

Odin winced at her tone and carefully withdrew from her personal space. "I was going to tell you."

"When?"

His eye slid away from her face. "Soon."

"How long have you known this?"

"I suspected something was amiss with that sceptre since Heimdall spoke to me of it," Odin spoke quickly, preventing any interruption. "I knew it was not anything ordinary the moment I placed my hand on it. I confirmed my suspicions shortly after I returned to Asgard and had time to better study it."

Frigga straightened. She crumpled the proclamation she still held into a ball and threw it at his face. It bounced off his cheek and fell to the floor before he could react.

"You are upset," Odin noted with his keen sense of observation.

"A little, yes," she agreed pleasantly.

"I am telling you now," he offered in his defence.

"You should have told me then," she said more pleasantly. Odin took another step back.

"I did not want to unduly alarm you, my love."

"Am I, my darling?" Frigga cooed. "Unduly alarmed? By finding out my thought-to-be-dead son emerged from unknown reaches in pursuit of an Infinity Stone, while holding another in his hands the whole time?" She smiled widely. "Why would such a thing alarm me?"

Odin shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I am trying to find out where the sceptre came from. Why he had it."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"What have you learned?

Odin hesitated before answering. "Little, I'm sorry to say. When on Midgard, I felt influence from that sceptre. A foul presence emanating not from the stone itself, but from something beyond it. Reaching through. Heimdall has confirmed as much, though we are both of the belief there is more than the single Chitauri leader I was able to strike at the heart of this."

"And this...presence, as you say, touched my son?"

"Aye. He would have felt it as I did. Though to what extent - if any - it influenced his actions I cannot say. Yet. But Frigga, I promise you I will find out."

"Do you think Loki was influenced?"

He hesitated again. "I do not know."

"Is that why you locked him in those rooms? Because you feared his mind was not his own?"

"No," Odin said at once. "I put him in those rooms because I believed - and still do - it to be the best place for him."

"Oh?" Frigga let her disapproval bleed through.

"You know very well my mother and father died within those walls, Frigga," Odin snapped back. "You think it simple matter for me to place my own son there knowing what happened to them? I assure you it is not. But I know he will be safe there for the time being until I find answers, so there he will stay."

"I see." She hated it. He was right and she hated it. She hated seeing Loki locked up in Bestla's prison. She hated seeing him confused and angry. And she hated the relief she felt in knowing that at least there Loki could not harm anyone, least of all himself.

In theory.

"Clearly the spellwork upon that room can be broken."

"Clearly," Odin said, voice tight.

"And you never learned how it was done?"

"No," Odin's face betrayed his unhappiness over that fact.

"How do you know Loki won't be able to break it, too? He's far cleverer than you give him credit for."

"He is," Odin said easily. "And I don't. But the working held for years the first time it was cast. I hope to have this matter resolved much sooner."

A small smile tugged at Frigga's lips. "And hope our precocious son doesn't outthink you in the process."

Odin just grunted.

Frigga raised her chin and shot him a level look. "You have not spoken to Loki since you returned to Asgard."

Odin shifted again. "No."

"Hmm," Frigga tapped a finger to her mouth thoughtfully. "How odd you think you can find the answers to such pressing questions without speaking to him."

Odin's nostrils flared. "I do not believe he will tell me the truth anymore now than when I first asked him on Midgard. I thought by gathering more information and then seeing him..."

"You might what?" she interrupted. "Bully the answers out of him?"

His lips thinned. "No."

"No?" she challenged. "Your plan is not to find the answers you seek on your own and then confront him with it? Wielding the truth like a bludgeon?"

"No."

They glared at each other.

"Does Thor know?" she asked. "Any of it?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No." Odin sighed. "I am not sure."

"A word of advice, my king," Frigga said pointedly. "Do not keep such things from your heir. He should know. Even if it's to protect him from finding out at an inopportune time later on. I think we've both learned that lesson well, have we not?"

Odin looked away. "There's something else."

She waited.

"When Eir examined Loki upon his return, she noticed something strange."

Frigga's fingers curled tighter into the flesh of her palms as she listened while Odin explained the healer's findings. She felt a sharp cold run through her veins, freezing her in place before a startling calm fell over her like a shroud.

"Who else knows?"

"No one," Odin promised her. "Eir is sworn to secrecy."

"You will go visit Loki," Frigga's clarity was absolute. "Not today, he needs his rest. But no later than the end of day tomorrow." Odin started to shake his head. "You will," she said fervently. "You will go into that room and face  your son and tell him what Eir told you."

"And then what? You think he will tell me the truth?"

"Perhaps he will tell it as he knows it. Perhaps you need only open your ears and listen to find the answers you seek."

They stared each other down, neither looking away. Odin looked away first with a frustrated cry. "And what if Loki will not speak to me at all? Hmm? I cannot make him talk to me. Or if he twists my words to suit himself as he is so often wont to do? What if he confesses to something that I cannot ignore? Some other act of treason he's committed than the ones I'm currently aware of? He's already acquired an impressive number for a king's son, to be sure. What am I to do then, Frigga?"

Frigga smiled. Fierce and unshakeable. She stepped in close to her husband. Folding her hands on his chest over his heart, she leaned against him as she spoke quietly for his ears only even as they stood alone in the room. "Then, my dear husband, you will delve deep into the well of your wisdom to find a solution that safeguards both realm and family. Because I have lost Loki once. I will not tolerate losing him a second time. I will bring Ragnarok about myself before that happens."

Frigga pushed off of him and looked about for the crumpled document she'd thrown. Spying it near one of the desk legs, she bent down gracefully to retrieve it. Ignoring Odin's eye following her every move, she carefully smoothed the proclamation out on the desk before reading it again. "I have some suggestions. If it pleases you to hear them."

Odin's face was unreadable, but for a familiar heat to his gaze she had not seen in some time. "It always does, my queen."

Frigga nodded in satisfaction. She and Odin had set in motion this mess together. Hurting themselves and, more unforgivably, their children in the process. Together they would work to set things right. To heal the pain and banish the secrets from their midst. To pull their son away from the chasm over which he was still perched, threatening to fall.

This time, Frigga would not send Odin out alone to the edge of an abyss to save her children. This time, she would stay at his side. Every step of the way.

  
  


***  *  *  *  ***

  
  


Thor watched the crowd while Odin spoke. It seemed safer than watching either of his parents.

The tension between them worried him. It had been present since Loki's fall, growing at times, then receding in others. Flowing between them in the currents of their grief. Thor wasn't sure what to make of the strange energy he saw as the king and queen approached the chamber beyond the throne dais, the air almost crackling between them. They spoke to Thor, but not to one another. Standing side by side they seemed worlds apart, and yet still a force unto themselves. Guards and aides gave the king and queen a wide berth as the couple passed by, and the unease Thor's parents carried along with them prickled at his skin.

But Thor knew better than to make comment on it in public, even if he knew what to say. And he didn't. Thor kept his peace and looked away.

They waited alone and in silence in the outer chamber as the crowd in the Great Hall gathered. When the guard came to inform them the flow of people into the hall had slowed, Odin led them out. Thor escorted his mother as they took their places on the dais. Odin climbed the additional steps to his throne, but did not sit. He turned to face the people, tapping Gungnir once on the ground as both a signal for silence and as a measure for all to hear his voice no matter how far they stood from their king.

"Good people of Asgard..."

Thor listened with a half an ear as Odin began his statement. The size of the crowd was impressive. The king's announcement was scheduled for a time of day when many would be preparing to make their way home or to eateries for a meal. This had the effect of leading many to divert their path for the palace instead, anticipating news that was worth delaying food and rest. Thor believed whatever Odin said would undoubtedly be spread throughout the remainder of the realm by the next day.

"...gathered you here to share in joyous news..."

Never much one for wasting words, Odin got right to the point. After declaring Loki to be alive and returned to Asgard, there was a wild burst of noise from the assembled crowd. There were shocked gasps and shouts of surprise, cheers and smattering of applause, followed by a rising, deafening buzz as thousands of Aesir voices began talking and asking questions at once.  

Odin tolerated it for not even a minute before he tapped Gungnir again on the dais. A clear echoing call rang out that demanded attention. The people quieted at once and Odin resumed speaking.

"...understand you have many questions. Be assured..."

Thor's eyes travelled through the crowd. Behind the rows of guards that always stood attendance to the king in his hall, stood every member of the council. Some stood with members of their families gathered nearby, others with their staff. Thor saw his uncle Vili among them. Beside him stood Odin's longest serving council member, Bragi. Their wives, Idunn and Fulla, stood behind them. Bragi and Idunn's daughter Eir stood with her arm linked through Fulla's. They were all watching Odin attentively, without reaction.

Thor spotted Baldur not far away from his parents, grandmother, and great-grandparents. He stood two rows behind Tyr among the other weapon's masters. Baldur's expression matched his family's in its careful blankness, even as those he stood with exchanged nudges and whispers.

Fandral stood just behind and to the side of Tyr's shoulder, among a handful of other aides. Sif stood alone behind her father, Ullr, a man who always struck Thor as having little patience for the office he held. Unlike other members of the council who did not live in the city year-round, Ullr didn't even keep a home here. Choosing instead to stay in guest quarters in the palace whenever he travelled from his lands in the north to attend the king.

His friends were watched Thor, rather than Odin. He gave them the slightest of nods, which they returned, before he looked further out into the crowd.

"...will revel in the days to come, knowing with sure certainty..."

He saw many guards who were off-duty, servants who worked in the palace, lower-level aides and administrators. He picked out the heads of almost every guild in the city. Volstagg was there, as was Hogun. Thor saw Kvasir, and thought he recognized some of the people who had been working in the library that morning.

Thor scanned faces, recognizing many. Watched their riveted expressions as they hung on every word Odin spoke. His eyes caught on Amora, dressed from head to foot in embellished pale green and gold, different from the simpler dress she wore earlier. Sensing being watched, she turned her head to catch his eye and smiled with an air of smug satisfaction until Thor looked away.

He wondered where Amora had been keeping herself as late. The more he thought about it, he realized that until earlier this day, he hadn't seen her since the day of Loki's funeral. She had attended dressed in a dark gown with deep green accents and had stood off by herself as they sent an empty boat out to burn brightly among the stars. Thor didn't remember seeing her at any of the feasts that followed. Amora herself lived somewhere in the city, but her family had a home further away, Somewhere in the east, Thor thought. Perhaps it was there she retreated with only the rumours of Loki's survival luring her back to the city.

"...strong and embracing those we love while maintaining..."

Thor knew not what to make of the relationship between Amora and his brother. They were friends, yes. They'd known each other for many years. Amora had flirted with Thor at every opportunity for centuries, and Thor flirted back shamelessly when he was younger and more foolish. Though he suspected she and Loki shared a bed at times, there never seemed to be any manner of serious dedication to one another. In fact, they seemed to fall out every so often and stop speaking to each other, sometimes for years, before resuming their friendship as if nothing occurred.

Another mystery of his brother's existence that Thor thought would elude him for eternity.

_Because you never asked._

_Why would I when I thought I had all the time._

"...take heart in the knowledge that with time your prince will recover..."

Thor became suddenly aware of the ripple of unease working its way through the crowd. He sought out his friends. They were all watching him with concern. Even Hogun's brow was furrowed. Thor ran his father's speech back through his mind quickly, looking for what he must have missed. When he found it, he sent a sharp look up at Odin. A look Odin returned with quelling one of his own.

Within a broadly worded statement containing few details, Odin informed the assembled crowd Loki had fought hard to survive and that such a fight would be enough to drain any Aesir of his strength, leaving him susceptible to ills that would not affect him under normal circumstances. Odin forcefully pointed out it was only due to Loki's will to survive that placed him on a path that would lead him home, and Asgard now owed it to their prince and former king to allow him the peace needed to return his strength and good health.

Thor's jaw was twitching from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He turned to his mother and saw Frigga watching him with a stern look of her own. A look he readily recognized as one that demanded her children behave themselves. Thor kept himself still, outwardly calm, even as his temper burned.

"...all will be well, for Asgard is strong, as is its people. Unbowed. Unbroken. Standing strong in the face of every challenge, until Yggdrasil itself falls away beneath us."

The applause quickly gave way to a deafening roar of cheers and shouts of praise and well wishes for the Allfather, Loki, and the rest of their family. The Allfather himself nodded once to his people before turning away to descend from the dais and depart the hall the way he came. Frigga quickly followed.

The crowd in Asgard's Great Hall didn't let up even with the king's departure. Thor waited a beat, looking across the sea of faces once more before following his parents out, leaving the jubilant crowd behind him.

"What have you done?" Thor demanded, as he roared up to his parent's heels as they passed into the outer chamber. They turned as one to face him.

"Thor, stop," Frigga spoke before Odin could open his mouth.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Thor raged at Odin.

"Thor!" Frigga snapped.

Thor dragged his gaze away from his silent father to set on his mother, who was rigid with irritation.

"Why are you angry?" she asked.

Thor's mouth dropped open. "Why? _Why am I angry?_ "

"Yes," she said. "I want you to think about why you are upset and explain it."

"All right," he began, incredulous.

"In the morning," Frigga cut him off ruthlessly.

Thor's jaw dropped again.

"Think about what was said here, and explain to us why it made you angry first thing tomorrow."

"I don't need to think about it, I know why!" Thor said, glaring at Odin.

"Oh? Are you sure?" Frigga asked.

Thor looked back and forth between them, then again to his mother. "How can you defend him? Didn't you hear what he said out there? In front of the entire realm?"

Frigga smiled calmly. "Of course I did, Thor. I wrote every word."

Thor rocked back on his heels as Frigga and Odin turned away and resumed their path. Mind awash in confusion and anger, he started to walk in his parents' wake through the palace corridors. Asgard's voices echoed behind them with every step.

  
  


***  *  *  *  ***

  
  


"What in the forbidden names of the Norns was that about?" Hod wanted to know as he and Baldur made their way out of the steadily emptying Great Hall. The rivers of people on all sides kept them walking close enough together they could speak loud enough to be heard by each other, but not overheard by others.

"Is Loki ill?" Hod forged on. "Enough so he can't even show up to smile and wave with the rest of your clan? Or at least long enough to look down his nose at us? Has he gone mad? Is it battle fatigue? Did he have to work to earn his own keep for a change? What? What happened to him?"

Baldur pushed his shoulders up around his ears. "I have no idea. Truly!" he protested in the face of Hod's blatant look of disbelief. "These are not matters discussed with me. All I know is Loki came home one night. I haven't seen him myself. I don't even know how he made it back to Asgard without the Bifrost."

Hod made a disgusted noise. "It would be most typical of your cousin to return from the dead only to up and die."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as all that."

"You said you didn't know."

"I said these things are not discussed with me, and they're not. But I do think if Loki returned from death just to die, as you say, someone would have mentioned it."

Hod considered this as they wove their way around the edge of a group of slower moving people. Catching sight of Baldur as he passed, a few people turned to whisper to their companions and then more turned to look over at him. Baldur pretended not to notice and kept his gaze on the path leading away from the palace. He wasn't always comfortable with the   attention being related to the king brought about, but he was used to it. It was only times like these, when his extended family was at the centre of some goings on, that he found the extra attention awkward.

 _It's not my doing_ , he wanted to shout. _I don't know what's happening either._

"If he's not dying, what's this about then?" Hod asked, smoothly shifting himself to block Baldur from the view of a couple still staring. "I heard when he returned, Loki was walking with the king unaided. No healers in sight. That they went straight up to the family quarters. They say he was on Midgard. Has Loki been felled by some mortal ailment?"

"I don't know," Baldur said. The crowd of people around began to disperse as they reached breaks in the main pathway and people branched off in every direction. With no particular destination in mind, Baldur went in the direction of home. Hod followed.

Hod laughed. "Could you imagine? Catching a mortal illness? Loki's pride surely wouldn't survive. I've heard mortals can spread death among themselves just by coughing," he shuddered dramatically. "I don't know how Thor survived there when he was banished. Horrible place. Never want to go there."

"Midgard is undoubtedly breathing a sigh of relief as we speak."

"That would make for an undignified end for your cousin, wouldn't it?" Hod continued as if Baldur hadn't spoken. "Survived the Frost Giants, survived falling off the Bifrost, only to be taken down by some diseased, coughing mortal. I wonder if we would have to mourn him all over again? Or if we could skip it since we did such a good job of it the first time round."

Baldur rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the Allfather will take that into account should his son die."

"There's no need to be sarcastic."

"I think there is, actually."

It was Hod's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, fine. So what happens now?"

"I keep saying it, but I don't know. Wait for Loki to recover, I suppose," Baldur said.

"Not that!" Hod protested. "I mean now. I'm hungry. I haven't been home yet. I came straight here from my post. It's time to find a tavern and spend the night drinking and eating and listening to half of Asgard gossip incessantly about your family. Want to come?"

Baldur pretended to think it over. "I think I'll pass."

"Your loss," Hod said cheerfully. He patted Baldur on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow then. I'll let you know what emerges as the prevailing theory regarding your cousin come morn."

"I cannot wait," Baldur said blandly.

Baldur lifted his hand in a wave as Hod pushed off in the opposite direction. He continued his walk toward home, ignoring those around him going in the same direction. It wasn't long before long Baldur spied a familiar couple off his right.

Fingers laced together, Fulla was leaning into Vili's side, his face dropped down low enough for his nose to touch her hair. Baldur's parents were speaking low enough not to be overheard. Fulla smiled suddenly and tilted her face up at her husband. The look they exchanged so intimate, Baldur's steps to intercept them stuttered to a halt.

Suddenly embarrassed at the thought of intruding on them, Baldur wavered in place, reconsidering doubling-back to catch up with Hod when his mother looked over and caught sight of him. Fulla held her free hand out of him at once, her smile turning welcoming. "Baldur."

Vili looked startled at the interruption, but was quick to offer his own smile. Baldur closed the distance between them, taking his mother's offered hand. With her son's hand firmly in her grip, she released Vili's hand only to link their arms together. Vili pulled his arm, and her, in close, covering her hand with his free one. Baldur joined their slow walk toward home.

"What did you think of your uncle's speech?" Fulla asked.

"Good. Interesting. Confusing. I have so many questions," Baldur said.

Vili made an unamused sound. "Undoubtedly exactly what Odin was going for - leaving everyone's heads spinning."

Fulla gave Vili's arm a gentle pat. "Be kind. You know there are reasons for what your brother does."

Vili sighed, sounding tired. "Yes, my love, there always are. But it doesn't mean those reasons are good ones."

"Father, have you seen Loki?"

"No. I haven't."

"What happened to him? Is he ill?"

Vili didn't look at him as he answered. "I'm not sure."

"But he'll be all right?" Baldur pressed.

"I'm sure Loki will be fine," Fulla cut in soothingly. "Between my mother and his, he'll have the best of care. Though I do hope Loki's gotten better at taking healing medicines than he did as a boy. By the stars, that child could squirm."

Baldur laughed. Being the youngest in his family, he had a difficult time picturing either of his cousins being small. Thor and Loki were always bigger than he, so much more grown up even though Baldur and Loki had fewer than twenty years between them. As a healer like her own mother, Fulla concentrated her care on children and had trained in the palace healing halls when the king's sons were very young.

She and Vili each had their share of stories from Thor and Loki's childhood. "Wherever there was Thor, there was Loki," Vili often said.

"And twice the chaos," Fulla would laugh before they would tease Baldur that that was the reason he was an only child.

Fulla gave Baldur's hand a playful squeeze. "Don't laugh, my darling boy. I seem to recall some other child who was not very well behaved when it came to downing the medicines his loving mother gave him."

It was Vili's turn to laugh as Baldur gave his mother a sheepish look.

"Now, no more fretting," Fulla said firmly. "We're going to go home and have a nice meal together. Are you going to go out with your friends later?"

"No, I prefer to stay in tonight," Baldur said.

"Good," Fulla smiled. "A night spent in the company of my two favourite men. How fortunate am I?"

"No more so than I am," Vili said, lifting her arm away from his arm to press a kiss into it.

Baldur's parents turned their faces back to each other, leaning into each other as they smiled. Suddenly embarrassed again, Baldur looked away as if fascinated by the surrounding houses.

But Baldur smiled too as they walked together. To home.

 


	18. Sayeth the King IV

Thor awoke half on the floor sporting a sore neck, an aching back, and a headache. Fumbling around the floor located his boots hidden under a crumpled blanket he had a vague memory of having been thrown over him as he was drifting off. Gathering his awkwardly sprawled limbs into some semblance of order, Thor pushed his way to his feet, up and away from the settee not big enough for him to sit on properly much less sleep upon. He didn't know why anyone would have such impractical furnishings in their quarters. His furniture was at least big enough to hold him.

A quick look into the main room's adjacent bed chambers told him he was alone, but he didn't think he would be for long. Thor straightened out his back and began rubbing at his neck. He paced back and forth across the floor, stretching as he worked out the soreness in his muscles and getting the blood flowing back in his legs. It was light outside, but just barely, and Thor was beginning to think it best for him to slip out of these rooms now and lessening the chances he was seen when the door swung open and Sif walked in.

She gave him a once-over. "I told you not to try and sleep on that thing."

Thor gave the settee a rueful look. It looked tinier now than it did late into the night when he, full of drink and despair, kicked off off his boots and curled up on it. Or tried to. His legs had hung off the end.

Sif slid the tray she had in hand on a round table flanked by two tall, straight-backed chairs set unobtrusively off to the side of the room. She ignored both chairs and began eating right off the tray.

Thor's first memory of the previous night floated back to him.

"You're leaving today."

Sif swallowed her food before answering. "Yes." She looked over at him. "My father wants to depart early. I'll see him home and be back in the Northern patrol before the night falls there."

They were in the palace's guest quarters. There were entire levels of Asgard's palace filled with nothing but. Enough to house foreign delegations from every realm all at once if need be. They could be used to house diplomats and their families along with any staff they brought with them.

For Sif's father, they served as a semi-permanent residence. When Ullr was in the city, he lived where he worked. As had Sif before Odin sent her away.

Whereas Ullr only traveled to the city whenever his presence was required for council, Sif had previously spent most of her time here. She had been the lone full-time occupant of her father's quarters at the palace. Though as far back as Thor could recall she rarely used them for anything other than sleeping in.

These guest quarters weren't as big as Thor's living space and had a different layout. There was a large, central receiving room with a formal dining hall off to one side. Along the other side multiple halls branched off leading to a study, a library, and several private chambers each containing a sitting room plus sleeping and bathing chambers. Most of the space went unused as Ullr rarely came to the city with family now that his children were grown. His wife didn't like to travel, and Sif's sister was married with a family of her own and rarely visited the city. Ullr usually lived in the space with just Sif for company, with Heimdall coming by to visit whenever Ullr was in residence.

Sif often joked her father's guest quarters in the palace were nearly the size of her family's home in the north. Thor never knew what to say since he thought these quarters were small.

"I'm sorry I have to leave."

"It's not your fault." Thor moved to stand next to her. He tried a bite of food from the tray she was still eating from, chewing carefully and slowly as a test for his stomach's tolerance. In the past, Thor overindulged more often than he should and always regretted it the next day even if he did recover quickly. In more recent times, he'd been trying to temper himself with varying degrees of success. The first bite settled well, so he took another.

"It is," she said. "Mine and others."

"We all made mistakes then, Sif."

"Yes. We did. You, me, our friends. And Loki, though I doubt he'll ever admit it. Even given the price he paid. He could never stand to be wrong. About anything. I expect we'll be paying for our mistakes for some time."

Her voice grew brittle and full of regret as she spoke. The previous night Thor couldn't stand to return to his family's quarters and sought out his friends instead. Not wanting to tolerate the stares of strangers, they retreated to Fandral's home and drank their way through everything he had on hand. None of them talked much. For that, Thor was grateful. There was little to say.

That changed when he and Sif made their way back to the palace. Sensing his reluctance to go home, she invited him to her quarters. He gratefully accepted. Thor sent a servant to bring them a generous supply of mead and before long, while sitting on a ridiculously tiny couch, Thor began talking.

It was like a dam breaking.

Sif listened while Thor poured out his frustrations with his family. With the king's speech, with his parents deceptions, his own disapproval over how things were being handled. He even spoke more freely about Loki than he had since before Loki's fall.

"I went to see him," Thor had said, drink making his tongue loose and heart sore. "Right after Father brought him home. I thought he was dead and then he wasn't. The last words we said to each other were made in anger. I didn't know what I was going to say when I went through the door, but I knew I had to see him. But it wasn't Loki."

Sif had blinked several times in rapid succession, confusion washing across her features. "What do you mean? Who did the king bring back if not Loki?"

Thor laughed, soft and sad. "That is a good question. For the man wearing my brother's face looks like Loki. He sounds like him when he speaks. But he burns with bitterness and rage. I cannot see but a shade of my little brother in him. I wonder if all that was Loki burned away in the fall, and all that remains is a mad creature. Or if the brother I loved was a fiction all along, and I just imagined him."

Sif's confusion only grew. "Thor, I don't understand. I thought Loki was ill? Can it not just be the illness you see? They say that being in the Void can drive men to madness, if it doesn't kill them outright. You have to give it time. Loki will get well again, you'll see. He's strong."

"You don't even like him."

"I did. I do," she said.

Thor shook his head.

"I do!" Sif protested. "I sometimes do not approve of his actions. I do not like that he is petty and cruel at times. Not to mention annoying to the point when I am oft tempted to smack him. I do not like how his jealousies have clouded his judgement in the past. But I have known him as long as I can remember. He is my friend, even when he doesn't act like it and I want to throttle him where he stands. I know I wronged him after you were banished, and when I have the chance, I will ask his forgiveness - "

"You didn't."

"What?"

Thor laugh was bitter and choked on his own regrets. "You didn't wrong him. Not the way you think, Sif. Odin lied. He lied to everyone."

And he told her. Everything. What happened to Loki when they went to Jotunheim. What happened when they returned home. What truly happened after Thor's return from banishment out on the Bifrost. And what Heimdall saw when Loki went to Midgard.

Thor had only a vague memory of what came next. There was Sif's stunned silence followed by her awkward attempts at comfort when his tears came and Thor was soon racked with sobs. He ignored Sif's quiet offer of the use of her bed and settled where he sat. The last thing he remembered was the weight of the blanket over top him and Sif's hand resting on his cheek before the soft brush of her lips to his temple, followed by a soft encouragement to rest.

Sif stood next to him now, tall and proud as ever as she ripped apart a loaf of honey bread and offered him half. Thor took it without comment and continued to eat.

"I am sorry," Thor said quietly after they'd finished the last of the food.

"For what?"

"For laying so much at your feet. My worries are not yours. My family's drama is not yours. It was unfair of me to burden you with them."

She swatted his arm. "It is no burden, you lumbering idiot. I am your friend."

He ducked his head with a small smile. "I've done nothing to deserve your friendship."

"No, you haven't," she said airily. "Fortunate for you, you have it just the same."

"Sif..." he spoke slow and hesitant, unsure about how to put into words what he wanted to ask.

"Thor, if your next words are in any way about asking me to remain silent about things you've told me, I will have to beat you up."

Thor blinked in surprise.

She continued. "Because I would hope I've never given you cause to think I would betray your confidence."

"I know. Truly. But," he rushed to say when Sif cocked an eyebrow at him, "you know what would happen if anyone were to find out. About Loki's parentage. It would make things worse for him. I do not care who he born to, or where. But many would."

"I know, Thor," Sif said. "I will never breath a word. I swear to you."

Thor nodded his thanks. "I am so sorry, Sif. For everything. In his anger, my father punished you for trying to help me, and I could do nothing to stop it. Forgive me."

Sif grabbed his arm and made him turn to face her. "There is nothing to forgive. No - listen!" She squeezed his arm and gave it a firm shake when he began to protest. "Your father may have lied. Loki may have been the one who set all this in motion. But everyone made their own choices. 'An unintentional treasonous lot of fools,' your father called us." Her sad smile was filled with regret. "He was right. I made the choice to defy Loki - who sat upon the throne I swore to serve, however he got there - and leave Asgard to find you. I didn't think what my actions meant, I only knew something was wrong. With Loki. With Asgard and Jotunheim. And that is the choice I made to try and address it.

"Maybe I chose wrongly. I cannot help but imagine what might have happened if I chose differently. I could have stayed here and tried to watch over Loki. I could have confronted him. Perhaps I could have stopped what he was doing, or maybe I would have made everything worse. I don't know. I acted on instinct. I thought if we could just bring you home...I thought if Loki would listen to anyone, he would listen to you."

"Once, I would have believed that was true. That he would heed my words." Thor shook his head. "Now, I am not sure anything would have made a difference. I am not sure of anything at all."

Sif hugged him. It was sudden, tight, and quick. Thor had no sooner wrapped his own arms around her than she was releasing him.

"For what it's worth, I think you're wrong," she said.

"Am I?"

"Yes. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, Loki _is_ your brother. No one knows him so well as you, except for maybe the queen. And don't think for a moment that little shit doesn't know it and resent you for it," she added with a cheeky grin.

Thor could not help but grin back. "Perhaps so. Though I am not sure if that will help or hinder me."

"You're Thor, son of Odin. You've never backed down from a fight in your entire life. Don't you dare start now. You want to help your brother, then go help him. Just be prepared for him to kick you every step of the way."

His smile turned rueful. "Am I allowed to kick him back?"

Sif tilted her head like she was thinking about it. "If that's what it takes to bring him back to his senses and force him to start behaving as a reasonable person again? Then, yes. By all means. Kick him as many times as it takes."

It was Thor's turn to hug her, engulfing her in his arms and holding her close enough to whisper "thank you" in her ear. This time, she didn't pull away.

  
  


***  *  *  *  ***

  
  


Baldur's day began standing at attention in the office of the head weapons master, Hagar.

"Your skill at arguing grows impressive," Hagar said, elbow propped on the desk with his chin resting on his palm. "Tyr agreed to let you have your way and continue teaching the students you see fit, though still insists you must step up training of the older ones."

Baldur nodded.  He expected as much.

"I suppose I should be reprimanding you for crossing swords with your superior in such a way, in front of his entire command no less." A hint of a smile pulled at the edges of Hagar's mouth. "But it was satisfying to see that pompous ass be challenged in ways I don't have words for. Especially by some whelp."

Hagar did smile then. Baldur had worked with the man for many years now, but in the beginning Hagar had been uncertain of him. Experience had taught Baldur that being the king's nephew would always leave others wary of him, uncertain if his family relations had given him a place among more experienced warriors he had not earned.

Hagar had had no hand in training Baldur, nor any experience serving with him. He came to his own posting as the head master after centuries of service as a field commander and was leery of finding someone as young as Baldur among the ranks of weapons masters, and became more so after discovering Baldur's lineage. It was some time before Hagar decided Baldur had as much a right to be there as anyone. That was when the old man began privately referring to Baldur as "whelp."

Overseeing the training of Asgard's future warriors was a posting Hagar asked for and was granted in gratitude for his long service to the king. Hagar had began his service under Bor and continued under Odin. He said it was his wish to have the chance to serve one more king from Bor's line before Valhalla called for him. Everyone knew Hagar meant Thor, not Loki.

"I suppose you might be of the opinion you're free to argue with whomever you please."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Master Hagar," Baldur promised.

"You'd better not, you puffed up little whelp. Tyr cannot afford to give you a sound thrashing. I can." Hagar mocked glared. "Don't think I won't."

Baldur held both hands up in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Hagar shook a finger at him. "Remember that. Now get out of my office. Go teach things."

Baldur laughed as he offered a quick bow of his head. He backed out of the door and right into Hod. Baldur jumped. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you."

"Here?"

"Well, you weren't in your own office."

"I try not to be." Baldur turned to leave the masters' offices behind him, anxious to get out on the fields before his first class began.

Hod fell into step with him. "I asked around. Was told you'd been summoned. Thought I'd just wait. What did the master of old want?"

Baldur hid a grin at Hod's epithet for Hagar. "I think he just wanted to tell me how much he approves of me."

"Imagine."

They exited the main building and passed a familiar trio just as the three were breaking off into different directions.

"Them again," Baldur said.

"They were saying goodbye to Lady Sif earlier. Lord Ullr is departing for the North this morning," Hod said. At Baldur's questioning look he shrugged. "I listen while I wait."

"You mean you eavesdrop."

"If they don't want me and a dozen others to overhear their conversation then they should talk quieter," Hod sniffed.

"Perhaps you should tell them that."

"Perhaps I will."

"They would wipe the ground with you," Baldur said.

"Not if I have you there to defend me."

"No, I think I would prefer to watch."

They both laughed and shoved at each other.

"So how was your evening of gossip?" Baldur wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Hod brightened. "Well. Thank you for asking!"

Baldur deliberately did not roll his eyes. "I meant what was said, you idiot."

"Why didn't you say so?" Hod kept talking before Baldur could smack him. "Best I can tell, half the realm thinks Loki has taken leave of his senses and is gibbering in a corner somewhere. And that the Allfather is keeping him hidden to spare the family the embarrassment."

Baldur winced.

"The other half are sure Loki will be fine and be back to walking about the realm like he owns it in no time. For how could it be otherwise for a son of Odin? The one thing they're in agreement over is that this is all Jotunheim's fault."

"When something goes wrong, blame the Frost Giants," Baldur sighed as he spoke the old adage.

"Exactly," Hod agreed.

"Because that's always so helpful."

"You're being sarcastic again."

"I know!"

"Lord Baldur! Excuse me, my lord!"

Baldur and Hod both turned at the female voice at their backs. Baldur straightened up immediately, pulling back his shoulders and doing his best to look taller as he smiled at the maiden approaching.

"Nanna! Hello. I mean, good morning to you. It's lovely isn't it? The morning. It's a good and lovely morning," Baldur said.

Nanna smiled as she came to stand before them, giving Hod a polite nod before addressing Baldur. "I apologize for interrupting."

"No interruption. We weren't even talking. Not really. We never talk about anything. I mean, of course we talk about things, we talk all the time, but not now. We weren't." Baldur shut his mouth with a determined click of his teeth, wishing at once the ground would open and swallow him whole as heat crept up his neck and into his face. He could feel Hod rolling his eyes beside him.

Nanna laughed like he'd said something genuinely amusing. "My mother asked me to speak with you, she and my father were running late this morning. Roan woke with a fever. He won't be able to attend his class today."

"Oh! Of course," Baldur said, feeling rather stupid knowing she was only here to deliver a message regarding her little brother. "Please tell him I hope he feels better soon."

"I will. It was nice to see you again. Good day to you," she said, turning to go back the way she came.

"And you," Baldur called after her. "A day to you. A good one. Day, I mean. Have a good day."

She smiled widely once over her shoulder and then was gone among the people steadily filling the pathway along the edge of the training field.

"Smooth, my friend," Hod said, with a hand on Baldur's shoulder. "I know not how she can resist charms like yours."

"Shut up."

"How many of her shawls have you purchased for your mother now?"

Baldur's cheeks burned hot beneath his beard. Her parents were cloth merchants while Nanna herself was a weaver. She made beautiful things and sold them at a small stand set up in front of her parents' shop in Asgard's main marketplace. Baldur learned that through her little brother who was in one of Baldur's classes. Baldur saw her once walking with her brother and was smitten. He had shamelessly gathered as much information as he could from the youth about her.

The first time Baldur went to the marketplace to try and catch a glimpse of her, he walked right into a display filled with colourful shawls while trying to think of something to say. He'd purchased one to cover his embarrassment and fled, later gifting it to his mother. He'd since gone back numerous times, each time trying to speak to her only to trip over his words and then quickly making a purchase to cover his fumbling.

With the last gifted shawl several days prior his mother had looked up at him with amused dismay. "Who is she?"

Baldur had been startled. "What?"

Seated next to Fulla, Vili coughed to cover his laugh.

"The young woman from whom you keep buying these? What is her name?"

"I don't know what you mean," Baldur lied. "Why would I know that? I don't know." And he'd fled with the sound of his parents laughing following at his back.

Now Hod was laughing at him, too. Because that was the price one paid when one confided things in their so-called friend after consuming too much drink.

"Seven? Or is it eight?" Hod asked merrily.

"Shut up!"

"Nanna, I love you dearly," Hod continued in a high-pitched dramatic voice. "I must know one thing - have you any scarves to go with these shawls?"

"Hod, I swear..."

Hod made kissing noises.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Hod said with cheerful confidence.

Baldur sighed. He didn't.

"So. Now that we've got the tragedy that is your love life out of the way, do you want to hear any of the lesser theories spawned from your extended family's grand display yesterday?"

He did.

  
  


***  *  *  *  ***

  
  


_That solves one mystery._

Vili watched his son's interaction with the maiden, and his subsequent harassment by his friend, from the balcony overlooking the edge of the training yards. The maiden he didn't recognize, but it would be a simple matter to identity her.

 _Then I will leave the matter to Fulla._ He would not put it past his wife to immediately seek out the maiden's mother and introduce herself. _Eleven shawls._ Vili shook his head. Fulla was running out of places to store them all. Vili was sure he would be seeing more of this girl.

"He's your son, all right," Odin said, sliding into place noiselessly at Vili's side. "Good with a sword. Useless with women."

Vili snorted a laugh, but said nothing. Odin wasn't wrong.

"I remain amazed you and Ve came from the same parents."

Odin wasn't alone in that regard. Though they shared the same high cheekbones and vibrant blue eyes, Vili and Ve couldn't have been more physically different. Vili had inherited Bor's red hair and healthy, ruddy complexion. Ve, on the other hand, had the raven hair and ivory-white skin that appeared once or twice in every generation handed down through their line via Buri's queen, Nott. Ve had been taller than either of his brothers, slimmer but still strong. As good looking as he was effortlessly charming and confident, Ve had only to walk into a place and smile to have maidens flocking to him from all corners. Vili had been painfully jealous of his younger brother on many an occasion.

He pushed off the balcony, stepping back into the outdoor hall he'd been using as a shortcut to his office. Odin followed and fell into step beside him.

"I am still angry with you," Vili said by way of greeting.

Odin was quiet before responding. "I know." His resigned tone made Vili want to throw something at his head.

They walked together in silence, moving away from the stone walkway into one of the garden paths. Vili made sure they were alone before he stopped. Odin halted a couple steps later, realizing Vili was no longer beside him and turned back to face him.

"Why didn't you tell me the casting was still there?"

"I never told you it was destroyed," Odin said carefully.

"No. You simply let me believe it had been. Is that not worse?"

"Is it?"

Vili stared at him, letting his clenched jaw answer for him.

Odin sighed and glanced down at his feet before responding. "I am sorry I kept it from you. There was so much going on at the time, and you and Ve were very young. I wasn't sure how much either of you understood. Once you were more grown, I confess I simply saw no reason to ever bring it up. I thought this would never be an issue again. I thought I would pass without anyone ever knowing of its existence. That it, and all its secrets, would die with me."

"How's that working out for you, Brother?" Vili asked, deadpan.

Odin's mouth twitched. "Not so well of late."

Vili began walking again. Odin fell into step beside him without hesitation. They walked in silence along the groomed walkway, dotted with leafy trees and numerous gardens in full bloom. Paths broke off in many directions, each leading to a different section of the palace. This time of day there was little activity, but as the day stretched on, the paths would be fill up with people. People with business in the palace taking shortcuts from one section to the next, others taking breaks from their work, in addition to the caregivers tasked with keeping the area well tended.

"You are keeping other things from me now. About Loki, I presume, despite how pretty your speech," Vili said.

Odin said nothing.

"That bad?"

Odin huffed, but still didn't answer. Vili sighed, a sound as tired as he felt when trying to pry information out of his brother when Odin was being non-communicative. Which was often. "I would help you, you know. I am no longer a child you feel you must protect and keep clear of conflict."

"I know," Odin said, even as he shook his head in denial. "There are matters for which I would value your council. But things are...I need more time."

"I see," Vili said just to say something.

They reached the edge of the pathway and stopped. A short stone open corridor before them led into the southeast corner of the palace. It was the closest entrance to Vili's office. Odin looked disinclined to go back in. Vili stepped away.

"I meant what I said. I am still angry with you," Vili said. "I will forgive you, but you should have told me Bestla's prison remained intact. I deserved to know. And I confess I cannot fathom why you would place your son within it."

"I have my reasons."

"I figured as much. You must have a damn good one for doing this to him."

"He's safe."

"As your mother was? I don't say that to be cruel, Odin. But unless he is completely lost to madness - "

"He is not!" Odin snapped.

"Then this cannot be a good solution for Loki," Vili finished smoothly. "You must know that? Bor made his choices. I've always believed you would make different ones. Better ones."

Odin looked away, studying a hedge bursting with tiny, brilliant pink and orange flowers. He was still listening, Vili knew, just uncomfortable with the topic. _What else is new?_

Vili sighed. "I know it's long in the past, Odin. Our parents are all dead and I forgave you long ago for sending Ve and I away after Father died. But your mother will always be the reason I grew up without mine. That is not something I can ever forget. Or forgive."

"I know," Odin said quietly, eye downcast.

Vili wanted to throw his hands up in exasperation. "You are such an idiot at times, I cannot believe you survived as king this long.

Odin's eye snapped back up, filling with ire.

"It is not _you_ I cannot forgive," Vili said pointedly. "We are not our parents, Odin. Any of them. I do not blame you for my mother's death. I never have. Accept blame for your own actions, yes, but it is long past time you stopped blaming yourself for the actions of others. The dead are dead. Stop obsessing and worry for the living."

Vili as walked away, he felt Odin's eye on him all the way down the corridor and until he passed within the palace walls.

  
  


***  *  *  *  ***

  
  


"I understand."

Frigga looked up from the papers she was reviewing containing Eir's advice for caring for Loki, along with additional information the healer gathered thinking it would also be useful to the queen. Frigga had read the material twice already. She would read it through as many times as it took in hopes it held the key to helping her son.

Thor was standing in the doorway of her study. He looked tired, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle.

"Do you?"

"Yes." Thor paused. "At least, I think I do."

"Go on." She smiled encouragingly.

Thor took his time to respond, plainly turning his thoughts over in his mind before speaking them aloud. "You're trying to protect him. I did not think you were plotting anything sinister."

"But?" she prompted.

"But, what happens later? Mother, what happens when Loki is well, and must spend the rest of his life enduring whispers behind his back about his sanity? There were already whispers about him before. You're not making things better for him."

"No?"

"No."

Frigga nodded once. "I see. And what would you have done instead? If your father was not here. If I was not here. You are king. The choices are yours. What would you do differently?"

Thor made his way further into the room, pulling a chair over to sit beside his mother's desk and taking his time settling into it. He glanced at the papers under her hands before quickly looking away without comment.

"It is difficult to say, since I do not know the same things as you and father. You have not told me everything." He smiled slightly to let Frigga know he was not angry. She smiled back.

"I do not claim to know better or to have better answers," he said. "But I think I would have waited. Taken more time to gather answers."

"Would that not give gossip more time to fester and grow?"

"All the better to have solid answers with which to counter the lies later," Thor said firmly.

"And if those answers never come? Or are not sufficient? How long do you wait? How long do you expect Asgard to wait? Your council? Your allies? Your brother, even? How long do you - the king - remain silent in the face of growing questions?"

Thor's certainty faltered. "I...I do not know."

Frigga made a considering noise. "You missed your father. We expected you earlier."

"I was delayed."

"Saying goodbye to Sif. I know," Frigga said.

He nodded, as if unsurprised she was aware of his early morning movements. She knew very well where her eldest son spent the night, but would not be the one to bring it up. It was not her business.

"And if I had been on time?"

"You need to speak with your father, Thor," Frigga said. "Things are not being kept from you for any ill purpose. We are trying to piece together a puzzle when we know we do not have all the pieces at hand."

"So you are buying time," Thor finished, nodding as if he too was trying to put together a puzzle and had just received a new piece. "As much as you need in order to safeguard our interests against whatever Loki's got himself into that led to the attempt on Midgard."

Frigga was proud of her eldest son. For so long she watched him rushing headlong and unthinking into one unwise action after another. But he was learning now. Learning to watch and to wait. Though she doubted Thor would ever be the kind of leader who failed to throw himself directly at any threat he encountered, he was learning to prepare himself better for the fights that lay ahead.

_This is what we thought Loki would do for him. Help him learn to be better prepared, be more cautious._

And Loki had done so. But not in the way Odin and Frigga hoped.

"I wouldn't isolate him," Thor said, continuing to answer the her earlier question. "Not like this. Not unless he posed some kind of direct threat to us all."

"I don't like it either, Thor," Frigga laid a hand on Thor's forearm. "But I believe this is temporary. Until your father learns more about where Loki has been. Who he's been with. Who set him on this destructive path."

A shadow of pain flickered across Thor's features. "What if we're the ones that set him on it?"

She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Then we'll have one of the answers we seek, won't we?"

She watched as Thor considered what he'd been told. He was trying to follow the thread through the tangle of his own worries. Thor was still learning patience, but she had faith in his stubbornness.

"Does Father think the Chitauri will try to follow Loki here? They may have posed a threat to Midgard, but not to us, Mother."

"I know."

"Are they a threat to Loki? He was in command of them, was he not?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Thor's brows shot upward in objection. "That is no answer."

Frigga rose in a single, graceful motion. She leaned down to press a kiss to the forehead of her sun-kissed boy. "No, it is not. Your father should be in his study. Go to him and tell him I sent you. Ask him what he knows about your brother's army and the sceptre. You will have much to discuss. And Thor," Frigga laid her hand along the side of Thor's face, "I know you have worries about what's to come. I share them. But Loki is strong and clever, as clever as our lives are long."

"I know," Thor said, still confused.

She patted his cheek and pulled away. "Yes, you do. As you know that if people soon see Loki as they remember him, then any rumours that may have begun to sprout will fade. They will see he is well and find other things to whisper about."

"You sound very certain," he said dubiously.

She smiled. "In this I am. I have been Asgard's queen for many long years, Thor. I know this land and its people. Your father made certain Loki died a hero. Died saving Asgard. And there are none Asgard loves more than its heroes."

"But he didn't. Father lied."

Her smile faded and Thor looked guilty for it. "Yes. And Loki will undoubtedly be made to answer for what he did do. His prank the day of your coronation cost people their lives. Your father will not forget that."

Thor's confusion gave way to frustration. "I don't see how he intends to do that and maintain the myth of Loki's heroics at the same time."

"Don't underestimate your father, Thor."

"I try not to." Thor thought of Loki's tantrum when he went to see him. His accusations, his goading. The hurled wine. It reminded him of how unbalanced Loki was that awful night on the Bifrost. "And what happens if Loki is not as people remember? What if he never stops lashing out? What if his anger has consumed him?"

"I refuse to accept such an outcome," she said. "But if that is what comes to pass - then what will it matter what people choose to whisper?" She passed her hand over the crown of Thor's head, smoothing his hair. "Go find your father, Thor. Seek your answers."

 


End file.
